One Wizard Too Many
by KUCrow1997
Summary: Harry gets picked for the Triwizard Tournament. He does not like this.  Mayhem, destruction, and HHR.  OOC Harry. M for violence and frequent profanity.
1. The Goblet of Wizarding Stupidity

A/N: Don't own it; movies, books, merch, etc.

_Italics: Thoughts_, or emphasis if used in a _single_ word

**One Wizard Too Many**

"And the fourth champion for the Triwizard Tournament: Harry Potter." Dumbledore announced to shocked silence in the Great Hall.

_ "I knew it! Shit!"_ Harry thoughts were eloquent on the matter. He did 'know' it though, as soon as a fourth piece of parchment fluttered from the Goblet, he had that fey feeling that he'd get caught up in some massive-potentially-fatal -to-him clusterfuck of epic proportions. It happened every damned year like clockwork_. "Christmas, Easter, summer bank holiday, Kill Harry Day. This is starting to get really annoying!"_

"Harry!" Hermione's harsh whisper brought him back to Earth. "They want you up there!"

Harry nodded absently and stood. His stroll across the Hall was greeted with continued silence; just the creak of benches as spectators turned to follow his perambulations.

_ "Dead man walking. Awesome." _

He entered the room where the champions and school heads had gathered, and promptly accosted by the French champion.

"Av they need of us, leetle boy?" the witch named as Fleur Delacoeur asked.

_ "Leetle boy?" _Harry didn't usually hold with the general Dursley opinion of the French as being hygienically backward, lazy, and rude. But for Fleur, he'd make an exception.

The ugly Bulgarian guy Krum (as opposed to the ugly Russian guy Karkaroff) just stood there glowering, but that could just be his default expression as there had been no noticeable difference to how he looked at everything. _"Like a Perfectus Totalis to the face!"_

Cedric Diggory at least looked somewhat sympathetic, but that was probably just Hufflepuff House for you; they're sympathetic to anyone.

Just then, he was treated to being; as Dudley might say, 'jacked up' by Dumbledore and pinned to a column. Visions of shattering old man hips whirled through his mind.

"Did you put your name in the Goblet, Harry?" the old man asked stridently.

"No! Of course not! Why would I?" Harry was trying to decide between sputtering outrage and total bafflement as his final response. Either would be quite appropriate given his mental state.

Dumbledore released him from his 'death grip' and turned to address the others. Harry straightened his robes and was treated to a discourse on magical contract law and how this was being used to potentially kill him this year.

When the words 'unbreakable', 'binding', and 'inescapable' were uttered through Crouch's toothbrush mustache, something made a little 'pinging' noise in Harry's brain.

_ "The Ministry and the grabby old man are going to stand by and let someone try to kill me! Again! " _ Harry now knew what it was like to have had quite enough. He really wanted to start shooting blasting hexes into the merry little group, maybe transfigure Dumbledore's head into the back end of some barnyard animal.

_ "Goat, definitely a goat."_

The urge to say something in his defense became irresistible. The protests from the others, while in theory aiding his cause, were kind of annoying and hurtful.

"What do you mean, 'I have to compete'? I didn't enter this competition, I didn't sign anything, I didn't do anything but sit there!"

It was gently explained to him that, since a very super special magical thingy shot out a piece of paper with his name on it, he had to play their stupid games or else something very, very bad would happen to him in a bad way. Harry was not amused.

He restrained himself from replying, but noted his self-control was taking a beating today. _"Fuck fuck fuckity fuck! I can't believe this shit!"_

Some instructions were given, indicating that further instructions would be forthcoming or whatever. Harry was really too busy trying not to tremble in rage at his predicament to pay attention.

"_Why does this crazy shit always happen to me? That could be the title to my yearbook from this place!"_

* * *

><p>Harry gave the password and climbed in through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room. He usually felt a small sense of relief upon entering the cozy haven. Today though, he was trying to suppress thoughts of bloody murder and mayhem. Anyone accosting him would be in for a rude surprise. Naturally, it looked like Ron would be the first guest at 'Harry's Surprise Party of Pain', if the glares emanating from the ginger were any indication.<p>

"So, how'd you do it?" Ron asked, less than politely.

"Do what?" He snapped. Harry was not in the mood for this.

"How'd you beat the Goblet? You could've given me a shot too!" Stupid whinging Ron!

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose as he closed his eyes _"Lord, give me the strength to suffer fools gladly!"_

"Ron. What makes you think _I_ wanted _any_ of this?"

"You always get everything! It's not fair!" Ron shouted.

"_What the…" _ "Ron! Douchebag! I. Didn't. Want. To. Enter. Somebody's trying to off me again! This is just the way they're going to try it this year!"

"Yeah, whatever. Enjoy your eternal fame and glory; like you need more!" Ron huffed as he turned to walk away.

It took all of Harry's willpower to not hex the ginger prat into something slimy and disgusting (or at least _more_ disgusting than his baseline form!)

As Harry stood there fuming, his right hand flexing and inching towards his wand, Hermione came down from the girl's dorm stairs and approached him.

"Harry, are you all right?" Her brown eyes honestly concerned.

He huffed, "No, I'm pretty f-ing far from all right." He always tried to ease up on the profanity around his female best friend, saving himself glares and reproaches in the process.

He turned to her. "Hermione, I think I'm going to kill Ron. Do you think I can pin it on Malfoy if I do?"

She huffed and rolled her eyes. "If you can't get away with sitting quietly in the Great Hall without controversy, what makes you think you'll get away with something you _actually_ do?"

Harry laughed. "At least someone believes me. Thanks Hermione."

"Any time Harry. What happened in there?"

"Well, I learned that I'm stuck competing in this tournament, the French girl is kind of a stuck up b-, Krum is just as unpleasant up close as he is from a distance, and now we know how 'Oldie Volde' is going to try and kill me this year."

"Oh, Harry." She seemed to say that more and more each year…


	2. Rules are Made to Be Perverted

A/N: Still don't own it; still kinda wishing I did. Also wishing Dame Joanne didn't put poor Hermione with the ginger food disposal unit… Alas, the cri de Coeur for any Harmony fan!

One Wizard Too Many Ch. 2

Rules are made to be perverted to one's own advantage.

Once Harry had calmed a bit, and demonstrated no outward signs of extracting bloody vengeance in the immediate future; Hermione sat him down and began to help him plan. Grinning at his studious friend as she brought out the ever present parchment and quill, Miss Granger began to create a to-do list in her usual style.

"First, you should contact Snuffles and Professor Lupin and ask for some help."

"Yes! I need some Marauder help with some potentially fatal pranks!"

"No Harry. You need the advice of some experienced wizards and possibly a lawyer. By the way; 'potentially fatal pranks' as such are probably considered attempted murder. "

"Aww, no fun. But you might be right."

"Always. Next, we need to read up on the Tournament rules and regulations. Previous rule changes and decisions as well. There may still be a way to get you out from under this thing."

"Like the coyote from under a falling anvil…" Harry muttered.

"Just paint a hole on the ground, the anvil falls right in; cartoon physics." Apparently Hermione had pretty good hearing. And an affinity for the Looney Tunes.

"Thirdly," Hermione continued, "we need to find out who is involved here; Ministry officials, judges, support staff, et cetera. Motive is important, who would want you involved in this? Who is the enemy? And can we expose them somehow?"

"Expose them to a blasting hex maybe. Seriously though, the ministry reps involved in our little 'discussion' in the anteroom seemed to consist of Barty Crouch as the chief,"

"Sanctimonious jerk…" It was Hermione's turn to mutter. She clearly still held a bit of a grudge over the 'Winky Incident' from the World Cup.

"Ludo Bagman as the face of the Sports Department," Harry continued. "And 'Weatherby the prat' as all around lickspittle slash administrative help. The school heads and champions were also there obviously."

"Okay." She started a second list. "We'll research the important personalities later." Turning back to the first listing. "Fourth on the list is study and training."

"We soon should be getting more info on what hoops, I mean what tasks, we'll be competing in."

"Great." She finished writing with a _scritch _of her quill. "I'm going to find the rules on this farce; you find a floo and call Professor Lupin."

After begging Professor McGonagall for the use of her office floo and a little privacy, and a stern reminder of "No long distance floos!" Harry managed to call Remus Lupin. Fortunately, Sirius was also available for consultations. Neither was terribly amused at the developments.

"What the fuck are they thinking? You're fourteen for fucks sake!" Sirius may have been a sailor or truck driver in a previous life, but no one could say his sentiments weren't heartfelt.

"I'm surprised Dumbledore is so blasé about this. He's worked very hard to get this tourney off the ground; this kind of screw-up looks pretty bad for him." Remus provided a genteel counterpoint to Sirius' vitriol.

This mattered little to Harry, however.

"You mean I might be getting fucked over hard in the arse just to make _Dumbledore_ look bad? Fuck that old man and fuck his sodding tournament! Sirius, do you remember where that tropical island is where you hid out all summer? I say we both go there after I visit some bloody murder on a few folks. We'll say I'm 'following my insane godfather's example'."

Sirius wiped away a tear, "That's my godson! Love ya pup!"

"No Harry, you can't just leave. The nature of magical contracts enforce compliance by stripping defaulters of their magic. If you leave, you leave a squib." Remus was ever the voice of reason, much like Hermione.

"_It has to be an intellectual thing."_ Harry thought.

"Okay Remus, we all don't want that. I asked Hermione to look up the rules for this thing, and she suggested you contact a lawyer for me to try to get out of it."

"Smart girl." Said Remus

"Hot, too." Sirius added

"Pedophile." Volleyed Remus.

"Two words: Nymphadora Tonks." Sirius shot back.

Moony blushed. "I don't know what you mean." He replied. "Besides, she's of age; Hermione's only fifteen!"

"Not for me, you prat!" Sirius said. They both silently turned to look at Harry.

"Not now, you guys!" Harry huffed. "Look, we need to meet. This floo stuff is too insecure; and uncomfortable." His knees were starting to ache from the stone floor. How Dumbledore did this for extended periods, he had no idea.

Both Marauders agreed, and Harry left the duo to their own devices; which apparently consisted of Sirius humming Van Halen's 'Hot for Teacher' and Remus threatening a DIY neutering on the animagus.

"_Why does anyone expect me to be normal if that's what I have for a parental example?" _ Harry couldn't help but wonder.

* * *

><p>The next week went pretty much as any normal Hogwarts seven day period might go for Harry: social ostracism and general contempt from most of the student body. Most students glared angrily at him for being a cheater, and even procured some flair proclaiming their opinions on the matter; courtesy of Draco Malfoy.<p>

"_Guess their nasty looks and mean comments weren't enough."_ Harry thought. _"I'd have come up with something better than 'Potter Stinks' though. It's a bit like that whole 'Heir of Slytherin' thing again. Wish I had a giant sodding snake with killer eyes this time around. Maybe I'll have a little chat with Hagrid…" _

Harry met up with Hermione at her customary table in the library. The organizers (in as much as anything in the wizarding world can be considered 'organized') had finally gotten back to them about the general format of the competition. Three tasks, each based on a particular one or combination of the four traditional elements and designed to test the witch or wizard's mettle and skill with magic.

"You know, if this were an online college, I'd totally get 'life credit' for the whole mettle thing."

"Sure you would, but most colleges are about measuring one's intelligence; which would be the complete antithesis of your ability to get into life threatening situations." Hermione snarked, not even looking up from her perusal of the official rule book for the tournament she had obtained.

"Hey, that sounds like a dumb joke, right?"

"If you have to ask, then yes Harry, yes it is."

"Har har. If this whole witch thing doesn't work out, they'd love your act in the Catskills!"

"No one puts Baby in the corner, least of all you Harry." She grinned. "Seriously though, these regulations are very complicated. Of course, they've accrued over nearly six hundred years of wizarding history."

"So I take it they're incredibly complex, make no sense whatsoever, and are also horribly barbaric?"

"In a word; yup."

Harry started to grin, very much in the fashion of Dr. Seuss' 'Grinch' character.

"Should I be worried?" Hermione asked.

"Question for a question; do you really care all that much about wizarding pureblood tradition?"

"Answer: not a bit. That whole cult of pureblood worship is among the most asinine things I've ever heard of." She replied.

"Would you miss it? If I; or I should say, we, happen to destroy the whole thing from within, beginning with this f-ing s-pile of a tournament? Which happens to be revered from time immemorial by those very same purebloods, if I may point out?" Harry posed, his eyebrow arched coyly.

Hermione could only respond with a matching evil grin of her own. It looked much cuter on her, of course.

"Interestingly enough, the rules, if examined with care; as I have done, may just provide the casual social iconoclast with his first hammer."

"Well, social mores _were_ made to be broken, after all." Harry grinned. Plotting the downfall of backwards societies was _so_ much fun!

"Yes, they were. According to the Provisions of 1720, champions: 'possess complete and total immunity from any and all that would interfere with their preparations for such trying and difficult tasks. Such champions as selected also possess sovereign right to self defense and protection from any who would harm them. Champions are accorded the privilege of preemptive strike without recourse during their tournament year, not to exceed the conclusion of the competition.' Now, the organizers eluded to this rule by exempting champions from tests and such; but taken to its logical extreme…"

"Wait… They couldn't mean… There's _no_ way that'd be legal!"

"Yes, it's legal. They never took that one out, and evidently never considered the ramifications of such a blanket rule."

"Rule? It sounds like a hunting license! You're saying I could walk up to Malfoy and hex him right between the eyes, and there's nothing he can do?"

"Well, you can't 'kill or permanently harm' him. But to answer your question: absolutely you can. Any response on his part would require a disciplinary response. Whether you should or not is another basket of kneazles. Your target just has to be considered a legitimate threat."

Harry was rarely overtaken by feelings of pure joy.

"Hermione, I think I love you!" Harry jumped up and planted a kiss on the blushing girl's cheek. "Next trip to Flourish & Blotts is totally on me!" He began to collect his things and hurry off to do some hardcore plotting.

"Harry, where are you going?" Hermione was still flushed from his declaration.

"Plausible deniability, my dear. I'm going to connive some ways to f-up this tourney; and maybe settle some old scores in the process. Best you not be a party to it."

"Just be careful! And no killing! I mean it!" Hermione called to his rapidly retreating form.

She couldn't help but be left with the feeling she just released a two legged basilisk loose upon Hogwarts. Whoever put Harry's name in the Goblet was probably not expecting this!

a/n: you know Hermione would love 'Dirty Dancing'! Which takes place in the Catskill Mountains of New York State. It's also the home of a certain style of comedian who perform gigs at the many resorts in the area. It's a northeastern US thing, which Harry and Hermione would have no reason to know, naturally. But then again, she does tend to draw knowledge from a variety of sources...


	3. Incisors and An Incitement for Violence

a/n: Still don't own the Potter franchise or the billions of dollars it commands. Depressing; but true.

One Wizard Too Many Ch 3

Incisors and an Incitement to Violence

_"The real problem with a powerful weapon is selecting the best time for its use. Damn! I hate being all responsible!" _Harry's thoughts on this day were centered on restraint. As much as he might want to snatch up his wand and visit painful mayhem on his peers, he realized an obstacle existent to all who maintain pretentions of sanity. To wit: he needed to somehow justify his actions. Specifically, he needed someone to present a credible threat so he could promptly rain offensive spellfire down upon their arses.

_"General arseholery isn't enough to start shooting hexes. I need someone to really beg for it, someone who has a history of poorly veiled threats and a certain tendency towards verbal diarrhea. I need Draco Malfoy." _Harry would next see the scion of Malfoy at his next Potions meeting later that day_._ Usually, Professor Snape's class was one to be dreaded, unless one enjoyed torrents of verbal abuse and blatant favoritism to those who weren't Harry Potter.

On this day, however, Harry could honestly say he was looking forward to it.

* * *

><p>Leaving the Great Hall and lunch behind, the fourth year Gryffindors made their way into the dungeons to congregate near the Potions classroom to await their esteemed instructor. Harry walked with Hermione and Neville Longbottom, chatting amiably about nothing in particular. Outwardly it appeared a peaceful scene.<p>

Hermione could tell something was bothering Harry, being the keenly observant person she was. She knew her Harry.

_"Her Harry? Hmm. Must explore that idea further. Later though." _Hermione thought as an aside. She could tell the young man was looking for something, his green eyes scanning the corridor endlessly. _"What is he seeking?"_

Directly she had her answer. Harry's eyes stopped their scan and alit upon Malfoy and his Neanderthal bodyguards coming towards the Gryffindor group.

_"He's seeking provocation. And I do believe he's found it." _Hermione thought as she placed a small hand on her wand handle. She saw Neville also inch his hand towards his secreted wand.

_"What is this? High Noon at the OK Corral? Apparently I'm Wyatt Earp and Harry's Doc Holliday…" _

Harry, for his part, was positively gleeful to see Draco. He struggled to make his face look wary and concerned.

_"Say something, you stupid sonovabitch!" _Harry's desires were simple.

"Well, well. Potty, mudblood, and the squib. Here to fail potions again?" Draco sneered.

"Witty as always, Malfoy. Did daddy dearest feed you that line? Or do you write your own materiel? Either way, the inbreeding is beginning to show a bit." _"Come on you fuck! Use some fightin' words! Pussy!" _Harry was raging inside.

Hermione sidled away a bit, looking for a better angle on the bookend idiots. Neville turned a bit to offer a smaller target.

"My father is a great man! He practically runs this country!" The Malfoy family legacy: one of Draco's many weak points. Harry saw his opening.

"Your father is a Death Eater and a poncy cunt! I saw a house elf fuck his shit up two years ago! Are all Malfoys such poncy cunts?" Harry's eyes were cold and hard, but he was getting a trifle dizzy inside. _"Come on! Get yourself all filled with righteous indignation and do something stupid!"_

Hermione wanted to chastise Harry for his language, but she did allow for the fact he was working. The scene was compelling though, she had to admit. Gryffindor and Slytherin were both drawn up to the side, watching the display in utter astonishment. The six of them, squaring off to do battle. No one backing down. Harry was particularly captivating: tense with excitement, green eyes aflame with the expectation of combat. Draco looked frightened. Crabbe and Goyle were patently confused. Even Neville was nervous, but game. All they lacked was the theme from 'The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly' playing in the background.

"_There has to be a charm for that, like a soundtrack spell! I'll ask Professor Flitwick later." _

Draco spoke again. "How… how dare you speak about my father that way! I won't stand for it!"

"Then sit for it, or lie down. Better yet, why don't you kneel? Just like dear old dad when he used to suck off old Voldemort? That's what poncy cunts like you do, right?"

Draco went very red in the face, and began firing off hexes. Harry had his fight.

Harry drew his wand, and with a muttered "Finally!" he started shooting back. His first hex (Bludgeoner) hit Malfoy in the chest, knocking him back into the wall and sliding to the ground. Malfoy had shot in his direction, but mostly missed with his red and blue curses. Crabbe, who was opposite Neville, had barely managed to draw when he was hit with a curse (bat bogey) from the scion of Longbottom. Mr. Crabbe would be too busy warding off the mucus bats emitting from his own trollish face to be of any further use in the fight. Goyle was quicker and shot a yellowish spell at Harry which cut his left arm a little. Hermione yelled something unladylike and cursed Goyle hard (Stunner). The large boy bounced a few times as he skidded down the corridor. Malfoy managed to connect with a curse when he shot one at Hermione (Desangueo), causing her two front teeth to begin growing rapidly. Harry ended the fight by cursing Crabbe (Stunner), and freezing Malfoy (Petrificus Totalis), who was still slumped against the wall.

"Hermione!" Harry rushed over to comfort the stricken girl.

"What's the meaning of this? What happened here?" Snape sounded quite angry. Not as angry as Harry felt, however.

"Professor! Malfoy started shooting off hexes in the corridor and had to be put down." Neville piped up. "He managed to hit Hermione here."

Snape was silent for a moment, regarding the now tusked girl. He then drawled: "Really? I see no difference in Miss Granger's appearance."

Harry was hit by a dizzy spell. He was quite angry before, but he was going to hurt someone for this.

Hermione sobbed once and ran down the corridor towards the Hospital Wing.

Harry could only glare for a moment. _"I can't kill them, I really can't. I want to; holy shit do I want to."_

Instead, in a calm voice, he addressed the professor. "Sir, there's something I'd like you to have." He handed Snape a small piece of parchment from his pocket.

Snape glanced at the note for a moment, perplexed. The odd look persisted as Harry hit him with a Petrificus Totalis.

"That, Professor Snape, is an explanation for what I'm about to do in the next few moments."

In later years, Harry's recollection of events was always a bit fuzzy when he thought of the corridor battle. Extreme emotion has a way of doing that.

Harry turned to the astonished students. "Beat it! You don't want to be a party to this." The Lions and Snakes scattered.

He next turned to Malfoy, who was looking on with wide eyes from his frozen position.

"Like to hit girls, you poncy cunt?" He slapped the blond Slytherin

"Let me let you in on a little secret: I don't like you. Shocking, I know. But, I don't have to hurt you because of that. No, your silly little games with pins, or your childish taunts don't bother me at all."

He sat on Draco's chest and peered down at him.

"What I don't like is when you do something to Hermione. Your leering and repeated use of the term 'mudblood' kinda bugs me a bit. I was going to let you go, but now… Well, the Yanks call this a 'teachable moment', and I'm going to teach you about retribution."

He transfigured a pair of middling size pliers. Draco tried to whimper a bit, but the freezing made most of his efforts impossible.

"You know, this'll hurt me more than it will you, but it's for your own good."

"_Heh, guess we'll see."_

Harry ended the freezing curse, and was able to pin Malfoy to the ground and grip his jaw, pulling it open. Malfoy emitted a kind of watery shout, but couldn't close his mouth.

"Open up and say ahh." Harry gripped Draco's front tooth with the pliers and twisted hard. Malfoy screamed and bled copiously.

"My my, Mister Malfoy, you really need to floss more. You might suffer premature tooth loss if you don't!" Harry chided. He gripped the other front incisor with the pliers and pulled straight back. The tooth broke with a _snap_.

"Whoops! Kinda new at this dentistry thing. Have to ask Hermione for some pointers!" Harry said cheerfully, his pleasant bedside manner in place.

Draco screamed in pure agony. It was a very wet, gurgling kind of scream; and caused some blood to spatter out onto the flagstones of the corridor.

"Oh, don't carry on so! This procedure is covered by your insurance! Unless you have an HMO; you're not in an HMO, are you?"

Harry managed to extract the rest of the tooth after a few tries. The darn gums kept getting in the way!

"Okay, Draco, all done! Don't forget to brush and floss, and see the nurse on the way out for a free pencil eraser!"

Harry got up and let Draco sob for a bit, before stunning him. The peace and quiet made it very worth it. He then went over to address Snape. The Professor's eyes bulged apoplectically.

"Okay Snivellus, I know you have a lot of questions from what you've just seen, and that's only natural. It's called dentistry and it's a muggle healing art, primarily having to do with the teeth and gums. More importantly, Draco received a personal demonstration of what is, admittedly, an amateurish technique because he needs to learn not to antagonize me. Hopefully, he'll prove a quick study in this particular discipline. Before you are tempted to follow his example, you should read that little note in your hand. But just to help you remember…"

Harry studied Snape's frozen face for a moment, before waving his wand in a complicated pattern. Grinning at his handiwork, he muttered to himself: "Heh, Lavender couldn't do any better!" And turned to walk to the Hospital Wing.

"H.. Harry?" A tremulous voice came from behind him.

Harry spun and leveled his wand at what proved to be Colin Creevy; about to piss himself.

"What?" Harry barked. "Never seen a dentist's office before?"

"_I don't have time for this!"_

Colin gulped, "They need you for the Wand Weighing, in the Great Hall."

Harry stalked up to the little third year threateningly, he didn't like stalkers much.

"You tell them I'm busy, and I'll get there when I'm good and ready!"

Colin nodded, and ran off up the corridor. Harry continued in the general direction of the Hospital Wing, and began whistling a merry tune.

* * *

><p>"Harry! What'd I miss in Potions today?" Hermione inquired after Madam Pomfrey finished shrinking her teeth to a more human scale.<p>

"Dunno, never made it to class. In fact, I think class was canceled." Harry looked at her for a moment. "Smile for me, will ya hun?"

Hermione gave Harry a great big smile. It seemed very easy for her to smile whenever Mr. Potter was around.

"Looks great! Madam Pomfrey does great work!" Harry said. The Matron rolled her eyes at the praise, but grinned anyway.

"You're free to go, Miss Granger." Pomfrey said, releasing the girl.

"Of course, Pomfrey did have great materiel to work with…" Harry said as he slipped an arm around her waist, walking next to her out of the ward.

"Prat." She smacked his arm playfully. "What happened after I left?" Now that they had some privacy, she asked the question she really needed answers to.

"I'll give you some hints: what do your parents do for a living? And what does the Bible say about revenge? Old Testament, anyway."

Her eyes widened. "Oh Harry! You didn't! You grew his teeth?"

"Nope." He opened his hand (not the one around Hermione), and showed her his little 'souvenirs'.

Hermione, upon seeing the two front teeth in his palm, was torn between wanting to yell about irresponsibility, laughing hysterically, and feeling touched that he cared enough to disfigure someone for her.

She settled for cautioning him quietly. "You know there will be ramifications from this. Please be careful Harry."

"Don't worry, I will. I'm just sorry you got hit in the melee. You've got to be careful too."

"Well, I think your revenge should suffice for my discomfort. I even had the incisors shrunk down a bit, less 'bucky' that way."

"Ah, you've always had a pretty smile. Does look good, though."

"Thanks, that's sweet. Where to now, since we seem to have a free period with no Potions to go to?"

"Shoot! 'Creepy' told me they wanted me for the 'Wand Weighing', or some such tripe. Care to go?"

"Lead on, good sir." The companionable couple strolled on to the next segment of the tourney.

A/N: Dentistry is not a toy, please use responsibly


	4. Standards of Behavior

A/N: Still don't own it. Something tells me that you'd have heard something if JKR sold her empire off to a nobody like me. Just sayin…

One Wizard Too Many Ch 4

Standards of Behavior

"Mister Potter; you're late! We were supposed to get started twenty minutes ago!" Barty Crouch's admonishment rang throughout the mostly empty Great Hall. The space designed to hold hundreds only contained a dozen or so individuals; now all focused on the two just now joining their little fete.

Harry was unconcerned. "So I was thinking we could emphasize transfiguration over charms as a basis for shielding against incoming spellfire. Like a 'cast and forget', rather than having to concentrate on holding a shield charm." The pair strolled up to the small group, completely ignoring the glares and harsh looks being directed their way.

"That's not a bad theory, but how are you at inanimate transfiguration? You'll have to do better than your standard form in class." Hermione did so enjoy an academic discussion; even enough to try and ignore authority figures when they're trying to chastise her companion.

"Mister Potter!" Crouch attempted to gain Harry's attention a second time.

Harry deigned to recognize the Minister for Magical Cooperation.

"What? Can't you see I'm busy here?" He may have had to attend, but nobody said he had to bring his manners along.

Minister Crouch was unapologetic. "You're late! What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Um, let's get this farce started so I can toddle off and do something much more rewarding than jump through hoops for the massive C-F of a Ministry?" Never ask a teenager what they have to say for themselves, it never ends well.

Harry took a moment to glance around at the others present. Besides himself, Hermione (trying to hide a secret smile, any twitting of the 'house elf abuser' was just fine in her book), and Crouch (turning a Vernon-esque shade of puce), there were the three champions, Igor Karkaroff, _"Vodka and cabbage must comprise his entire diet!"_ , Madam Maxine, _"Damn, that's a big broad!", _Dumbledore _"Twinkly as ever.", _Professor Sprout, _"At least Cedric gets some support from his head of house!",_ the ever freaky Alistair Moody, "_It's like a race to see what will make me sick first: that spinning eye or that hamburger patty of a face!"_, Ludo Bagman, _"The wizarding equivalent of a 'dumb blonde.'", _Percy Weasley, _"You have a brown spot on your nose, just there." _, Ollivander the wandsmith, _"Should he be allowed around children?"_, Some older witch in obnoxious glasses, and a guy holding a camera.

It didn't take Crouch very long to regain his powers of speech.

"Is that the behavior expected of a Champion of Hogwarts?" He demanded, looking at Dumbledore to rein in the young man.

"Listen Barty, maybe you don't remember our little meeting on Halloween, but I'm not a champion of Hogwarts. That would be Cedric over there." Harry nodded to the taller Hufflepuff.

"The Goblet picked you. You go to Hogwarts. Therefore, you are a Hogwarts Champion." Crouch was trying to stay calm. His statement was delivered in a very strained fashion, however.

Harry turned to Hermione. "Hun, cover your ears a moment."

He turned back. "Listen, I don't know what kind of fucked up reasoning you wizards use, but how in fuck's name can you have _four_ champions in a _Tri_ wizard tournament? The only reason I'm here is because someone must've hacked your 'impressive magical artifact' in an effort to get me killed. I get the fact I have to compete because somebody screwed the crup when it came to the rules and I get turned into insta-squib if I don't play." Harry paused a moment. "Speaking of rules…" He handed Crouch and Dumbledore pieces of parchment with something written in small script upon them.

Dumbledore began examining his intently, but Crouch was less concerned. He balled his up and tossed it in the general direction of Percy. "Listen boy! I'm a minister! I demand respect! You're a contestant and a student; you have to abide by the standards of behavior!"

Harry put on his best 'inquisitive five year old' face. "Why?"

"Because those are the rules!" Crouch's wizarding cardiologist would have to have a word with him about controlling his blood pressure.

Hermione took this opportunity to speak up. "Actually sir, there are very few stated rules regarding a champion's behavior in the published regulations. Harry just provided you with the pertinent excerpt, but you wadded it up and tossed it at Percy."

"What? And who the hell are you?"

"This, Barty, is Hermione Granger: smartest witch of her generation and my confidential advisor."

Dumbledore entered the fray. "Mister Potter, Miss Granger; would one of you care to explain what exactly…"

The Headmaster was cut off by an angry bellow from without the hall.

"Professor Dumbledore! I demand that the Potter brat be expelled and the Aurors called at once!"

"Enter Snape, stage left." Harry said to Hermione, sotto voce.

Severus Snape may have an impressive vocal delivery, but no one save Harry was prepared for the appearance of the man when he entered the Hall.

His billowing cloak and oily hair remained as per the usual image of the Potions professor, but his usual pale complexion was enlivened by a heavy layer of makeup. He looked very much like a 'lady of a commercial nature', or a chorus girl, and was visibly unpleased by the change.

Hermione suppressed a snort, and buried her face in Harry's shoulder to keep from laughing hysterically at the altered instructor. Cedric also had to struggled mightily to repress laughter as his head of house Ms. Sprout gave in to a coughing fit. Even Karkaroff couldn't help but smile a bit at Snape's new look.

"Professor Snape, showing off your new 'fall look' I see." Dumbledore couldn't resist twitting the usually dour man. "But being the unwilling recipient of a make-over is hardly grounds for expulsion. Detention may be a suitable alternative, perhaps?"

Snape was apoplectic. "He tortured a student! And assaulted a professor with a freezing spell!"

"Aaand that brings us back to that little piece of parchment you all seem to be ignoring. My brilliant advisor, who currently seems to have an attack of the giggles, found that in the official rulebook."

Dumbledore looked at his quizzically. "I know of this rule. It's archaic, but it's traditionally been used to exempt the champions from exams during the tournament. How does this justify you giving Professor Snape the 'Avon' treatment?"

Harry paused to both gather his thoughts, and marvel that Dumbledore knew the name of a muggle cosmetics company.

"Well, given the unusual circumstances of my entry into this mess, I thought a re-interpretation was in order. The original intent of the rule, as explained to me by Miss Gigglepants here," earning him a smack on the arm from the recovering Miss Granger, "was to protect the champions from enemies while exposed to the dangers of the competition. It's tough to beat a deadly magical puzzle if you're constantly looking behind you for a knife in the back."

"Headmaster! This boy should be on the next boat to Azkaban!" Snape was still a little miffed.

"There's where you're wrong. I can deal with threats as I see fit with a few exceptions, like?" He turned to Hermione

"No killing, castration, or permanent maiming; unless the 'threat' tries to do so first."

"You ripped out Draco Malfoy's teeth with a pair of pliers!" Snape exclaimed.

The French looked a bit disgusted, the Hufflepuffs were plain astonished, and Karkaroff nodded appraisingly. Krum just looked bored.

_"Everyone has their standards, I guess." _ Harry couldn't help but note.

Dumbledore looked grave. "Why did you do such a thing?"

"I was dealing with a threat. Draco is, by his own admission, a threat to me. So much so, that he brags about it to anyone who'll listen. Besides, having one's teeth forcibly removed is hardly permanent. He did seem to find the experience somewhat painful though."

"I'm disappointed in you, Harry. But I see no reason to censure you as you seem to be operating within the 'rules', as such; right Minister Crouch?"

Barty Crouch seemed to be on the verge of a headache for the ages, but nodded at the Headmaster's prompting. "Let's just get this weighing over with." He stated tiredly.

Snape, however, wasn't finished. "What about his curses directed at me? I'm stuck looking like a French tart!"

The Beauxbatons contingent was unamused at the national slight, and glowered threateningly. The effect was far from trivial, given the fact one of its members was seven feet tall.

Harry sighed. _"As fun as this is, I just want to get it over with." _

"Hermione, would you like to do the honors?"

"Sure Harry." She knew immediately what the issue was. "What's the password?"

"It's 'Snape is a pretty little princess', just seemed appropriate at the time."

"Password, what do you mean?" Professor Sprout was curious at the by-play.

Harry answered. "My brilliant Hermione has discovered a way to 'password protect' a charm from a 'finite' spell. You have to say the passphrase before you cast the 'finite' to end it."

Hermione suppressed a snicker as she intoned the passphrase and ended the makeup charm on Professor Snape. Her only thanks was a glower as he stomped away and out of the Hall. Harry most definitely would be hearing about this later! He looked forward to the confrontation.

"Fifty points for Gryffindor, for the innovative use of a security spell-charm pairing." Dumbledore said. "Now, where were we, Barty?"

The Wand Weighing seemed like a pointless exercise, with each champion holding forth on how great their wands were. The French bird revealed her Veela heritage and Ollivander creeped everyone out with his eidetic memory and strange demeanor. Fortunately, he did keep mum on the fact that Harry's phoenix feather wand was a twin of Voldie's; such a revelation would've gone down like the proverbial 'fart in church', and harmed his reputation still further.

Finally, the folderol was concluding. The witch with the weird specs wanted pictures; but Harry declined.

"Sorry, but I've named the Giant Squid as my press agent. Any requests for photographs must pass through him."

When it was pointed out that no one could communicate easily with the leviathan, Harry was unimpressed.

"Well, if you get a paddle from the boathouse, you can slap the water and send a message to him; I recommend using Morse code. He'll respond in similar fashion."

The odd 'specky' witch was undeterred. She did finally name herself, though.

"Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet. How about an interview?" She laid a be-clawed hand on his shoulder, large fake nails glinting ominously.

This did not please Miss Granger, as she was familiar with Ms. Skeeter's body of work and didn't like seeing anyone touch her Harry.

_"Bitch! Get your hands off my man!"_

She took up station between Skeeter and Harry and took him by the arm. "Harry, we do have a study appointment in the library right about now. Shall we be off?" She made sure to jostle the reporter with a shoulder as they walked on by.

As the couple left the Hall, Harry took Hermione's hand.

"That went well, I think. Wish we had pictures of 'Princess Severus' though."

Hermione giggled. "I'm sure he'll provoke you again soon, dear. I recommend a bouffant with heavy green eye shadow next time, like an eighties prom theme."

"Sixteen Candles: In the Dungeon." Harry tried.

"Eh, not bad. 'Potions Club'."

"Heh, good one. 'All The Right Ooze', like his hair."

"Better. How about 'Pretty in Stink'?"

Harry snorted. "You're better at this than me! 'St. Elmo's Hair Fire'?"

Hermione sighed. "Now you're reaching. What were you saying about transfigured shields before?"

"Yes dear." As they walked down the corridor to a study session in the library.


	5. Sorting Out Loose Ends

A/N: I don't own the franchise.

One Wizard Too Many Ch 5

Sorting Out Loose Ends

Harry and Hermione spent the next two weeks following the Wand Weighing in a flurry of intensive studying. General defensive spells and hexes were examined and practiced in an effort to get Harry ready for whatever the first task was to be. The hints dropped from the Ministry indicated an event based on 'air and fire', and would probably take place in an arena specially built near the forest; if the great amount of activity from the Ministry workers on the site was of any indication. In lieu of any hard information, the guessing continued.

"Fire… How about a flamethrower battle?" Harry ventured, lounging against a boulder near the Black Lake.

"Nope. First, it's not magical enough. Second, you're missing the 'air' element. Third, and I could be wrong, but wouldn't that be a bit messy for a school tournament?" Hermione replied from her post against a tree.

"Ok, I see your points, except the 'messy' part. Don't you think wizards would love to see someone get charbroiled in a sporting event?"

"Sadly, yes. Probably make the front page of the Prophet. Especially if the 'Boy Who Lived' was involved."

"Eh, sadistic jerks. Most likely try to paint it as my fault, too." Harry continued. "Well, we can probably count out something delightful and safe like 'Hot Air Balloon races', or 'Fireworks Demonstration'."

"Yeah, magicals do like to see blood; it's a bit like Ancient Rome and their Gladiators, really. Same sick fascination with their champions and their need to see them get hurt." Hermione looked thoughtful, not an uncommon appearance for her. "One could also point to the stratified society, possession of slaves, and shameful farce of a democracy as being very 'Roman' too."

"Ave Hermione! We who are about to die, salute you!" Harry gave the movie version of a gladiator salute.

"That's not funny, Harry." Hermione said quietly. The jest hit a little too close to home.

"Yeah, sorry. Just trying to lighten things up a bit." Harry was also very aware of his own mortality.

Just then, Harry spied a pair of Gryffindors approaching from the direction of the school. His gaze prompted Hermione to follow as it alit upon Neville and a trailing Ron making their way over to the lakeshore and their location.

Neville approached them, as Ron stood off trying to give off an air of disinterest.

"Hi guys! How's the studying going?" Neville asked. Everyone knew why he was there, having obviously been goaded into it by the ginger prat. Polite to a fault though, the lad tried to push as much earnestness into his small talk as he could.

"Not too badly, actually. Hermione's come up with some pretty good general strategies to cover a few possibilities." Harry wasn't really in the mood, but he couldn't bring himself to be rude to the nervous boy. "But you aren't really here to ask about our studying, are you Neville?" He asked gently.

"No, not really; Ron asked me to pass along a message." Neville blushed a bit; he personally did not agree with the redhead's position. "He said he'd forgive you and Hermione if you'd just admit to entering the contest. He also wants to have you let him hex Malfoy and say you did it."

Hermione gasped. "What? How dare he be so childish! You tell…"

Harry placed a hand on her arm gently, cutting her off from a full rant.

"Neville; I respect you for trying to play the mediator here. I know you didn't want to inject yourself into this dispute, and are only here because 'Ickle Ronniekins' asked you to be. But I'm going to have to ask you to step aside for a moment so I can have a word directly with the instigator of our little meeting."

Harry got up and walked over to where Ron was trying his best not to appear to be eavesdropping. His best was very poor indeed, as his face was still flushed from the 'Ickle Ronniekins' remark.

"Weasley, a word please."

"I'm not talking to you, cheater!" Ron said, managing to reiterate his vow and break it at the same time.

"I just want to talk this out, like adults. We used to talk all the time, you know."

'That was before you turned into a rotten glory-hound! Not satisfied with all the money or all the fame? Had to have a little more, didn't you?"

"Ron, you do realize that whatever 'glory' or 'riches' I seem to have were as a result of Voldemort brutally murdering my parents, don't you?"

"Whatever, you always get all the good stuff! You even got your own little homework helper!"

Harry did not like where this tantrum was going. When Ron would whinge about Harry's apparent 'good luck', it usually petered out after a time. Now that he brought up Hermione, Ron's favorite verbal chew toy, he could go on for hours. Add to this the fact that Harry felt certain 'protectiveness' toward the studious girl…

_"You're in love with her, you dolt!"_ His subconscious decided to make itself heard.

Ron's rant continued. "Hermy used to do _my _work for me, but now you have her all to yourself! Probably shagging her too! That's what mudblood girls do, isn't it?"

Harry felt the familiar tinge of madness hit his brain, usually accompanied by a red curtain of rage that would color his vision whenever he'd get really angry.

"Ron. Let's take a little walk, shall we?" Harry tried not to wear his crazy smile as he gripped the taller redhead by the shoulder and led him toward the water's edge.

"Now, you know me pretty well, right?" Harry asked.

Ron was getting a bit nervous. Harry seemed a bit too cheerful for the situation.

"Sure Harry, known you for three years and a bit. Why?"

"Well Ron, I've always been a pretty easygoing guy, right? Never took anything too seriously, never held a grudge, hmm?"

"Nno… No you always seemed pretty easygoing to me."

Harry smiled. "Never yelled when you'd say all sorts of mean things about me in the common room every year, right?"

Ron didn't know he'd heard any of that.

"I'm sorry, Harry! I was just jealous and stuff!"

"Shhh, easy now, easy. I never got too mad at you for it. Wanna know why?"

"Ssure, Harry." Ron was practically in tears.

Harry gently gripped Ron by the jaw with both hands as he looked at him closely.

"Because, when you were spouting your shit to everyone who'd listen, it was only about me."

Harry looked meaningfully at Ron from close range for a minute. He then head butted him very hard in the nose.

Ron reached up to grab his now bloody face, grunting hard in pain. Harry then put his knee solidly into the redhead's crotch, doubling him over. A strong grip on a hank of ginger hair, Harry then pushed Ron's face into the lake water.

Harry looked over to the advancing Hermione and Neville and held up a hand. They were obviously concerned about the sudden violence they'd just witnessed, and maybe try to stop it.

"Sorry guys, this is champions business." He said, with a significant look toward Hermione.

"No killing! That includes Ron!" Hermione chastised "Let the idiot breathe!"

"Right." Harry said, half to himself. Ron's blood and mucus was mixing with the lake water and creating an interesting oily pattern on the surface, and the struggles of the drowning boy did cause a fascinating ripple effect. But, no killing was the rule.

Harry yanked back, and Ron drew in a huge gasp. Since Harry was still mad, he gave Ron a moment to breathe, and then shoved his head into the water again.

"Harry…" Hermione called from where she and Neville had halted in their mad dash toward the struggling pair.

"Just letting him cool off a bit, dear."

"If he dies, I swear to God…"

"He won't die. Unless he breathes. Then he might die."

Hermione huffed and pinched the bridge of her nose. Neville just looked very nervous, and wondered if this sort of thing was normal when hanging around with Harry Potter.

Harry pulled back again and allowed the ginger prat to draw in oxygen. He gave Ron a moment as before to gasp a few times, and then pushed down hard. He was still a little mad.

"Harry, how long are we going to do this?" Hermione asked tiredly.

"Not much longer. I think I can hear from his gurgles that he's sorry."

Harry pulled Ron out of the murky water and pushed him to the ground. He allowed the now soaked boy to collect himself.

"Okay Ron, I'm going to make this short. I don't have the time and you don't have the attention span: so listen up." He told the dripping and terrified boy.

"Say whatever you want about me, I don't give a toss. Better people than you have slandered me, and I can't bring myself to care about your petty jealousies. But if you ever say those things about Hermione again, I'll feed you to the fucking squid."

"Harry! Language!" Hermione scolded from her vantage point.

"Sorry dear!"

He turned back to Ron. "She's a better person than either you or I, and I'll not stand to hear her be abused. Clear?"

Ron nodded nervously, then got up and ran away quickly.

Harry puffed out a breath, and walked over to the rather surprised Hermione and Neville.

"That went well, I think. I was really able to get through to him." Harry said cheerfully.

"Harry," Hermione said, "I heard what he said, and I really don't want you hurt anyone on my account. It was sweet though."

She kissed him on the cheek, causing a big blush to appear.

She took his hand and they started to stroll back towards the castle.

Their movement snapped Neville out of whatever stupefaction he was in. He wasn't used to seeing fellow students try to kill each other yet, but felt it may be a new trend in Harry's life.

"Uh, guys?" He addressed the retreating couple. "I have a message, from Hagrid."

Hermione stopped. "Oh?" Pulling her companion to a stop as well. Apparently Harry was temporarily out of circulation due to Hermione's kiss.

"He wants to see Harry after dinner at his hut, with his invisibility cloak."

"Hmm, interesting." Hermione said.

Harry just grinned stupidly.


	6. Events of a Clandestine Nature

A/N: Nope, still don't own it. I'd share if I did though.

One Wizard Too Many Ch 6

Events of a Clandestine Nature

Sitting still for dinner that evening proved to be a chore for Harry; Hagrid's request for a secret meeting added another layer to an already very tense situation in the Great Hall. In addition to the possibility of a break in the information blackout regarding the First Task, events surrounding the large gamekeeper/Creatures Professor tended to be much more bizarre and quite a bit more dangerous than one might expect. A lot of this had to do with the sort of company the huge man tended to keep, and it was this fact that had Harry a bit worried. Whenever Hagrid was involved, there was sure to be some be-fanged horror lurking nearby.

In addition to Hagrid's predilection for incredibly dangerous creatures, Harry had to sit there taking glares from a few of the people he's 'dealt with' recently. Ron was giving him a wide berth for the present, thankfully. But now that his life wasn't in mortal danger, the glares and general arseness emitted from his seat far down the Gryffindor table. In addition, several ounces of half-chewed victuals were visible to a radius of three feet from the ginger boy.

No one could do both disgusting and rude quite like Ron Weasley.

_"Wonder if anyone was paying attention to the clock in the Burrow during Ron's little 'swim'? Likely not, as old Molly'd be here now to cosset her little Ronniekins." _

On the Weasley front, Percy seemed to be giving him the gimlet eye as well from the staff table. That could just be Percy being his usual prattish self though. The Twins were up to their usual hijinks; which consisted largely of hijinks, in addition to mischief and tomfoolery. In short, just behaving like immature arses.

_"Maybe they're not too bad to have around though. They certainly do attract enough attention. The headache they give me is enormous, however."_

The last of the Weasley's, Ginny, sat fairly close to his spot near Hermione and Neville. Her presence may not have been as obnoxious as her brothers', but was far creepier. The petite redhead seemed to be stuck in a cycle of glancing bashfully at Harry and blushing, before turning away quickly. Her head inevitably inched around to catch him in her gaze, repeating the process. Thankfully, someone had removed all the butter trays from within easy elbow reach of the smitten girl.

Harry sighed to himself. _"There's something off about the whole bloody family!" _

Next, Harry's gaze alit upon the recently re-fanged scion of Malfoy, who was glaring unpleasantly at him. There was really nothing new about that, as Malfoy had begun glaring nastily during First Year and never stopped, except maybe to gloat if the occasion called for it. Something was wrong about that whole situation, however.

_"Malfoy seems a bit too undaunted after his appointment with 'Dr. Feelbad'. Either he's made of sterner stuff than I thought, or something else is going on here…" _

"Hey Neville, could you answer me a question?" He asked the nervous boy across from him. Something in his tone caused Hermione to look up from her plate and listen in on the answer.

"Sure Harry, what is it?" Neville asked.

"When a pureblood with money goes in for treatment for a painful injury, what sort of treatments do they get?"

"Well, depending on the injury received, usually the norm is for a specialist healer to fix the problem; like heal the bones and such. Then they see a pain specialist to alleviate the immediate hurts before they get obliviated of the incident. Most purebloods don't do pain well, and would rather not remember it."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "They obliviate the pain away? Wow."

Neville continued. "Yeah, Gran wanted me to get obliviated after I broke my arm in First Year, but it didn't hurt that bad."

"Good on you, mate. Not very Gryffindor of you to hide from the ouchies, eh?" Harry wanted to boost the twitchy lad's esteem; he could be a solid ally if only he had a bit more confidence.

Neville smiled at the rare praise.

_"From tiny acorns, do the mightiest oaks grow." _

Harry continued. "So it would be safe to say that a certain vain and cowardly Slytherin of our acquaintance, having recently undergone an amateur dental procedure given by an 'unknown' assailant, probably would have had his pea-brain wiped clean of the memory?"

"Most definitely, yes."

"It just explains so much… I've often wondered why magicals don't seem to learn from their mistakes. I just assumed it was some sort of collective insanity or something. But the fact is, they just plain don't remember making the mistake!" Hermione was rarely taken aback so.

Where the intellectual was astonished, the 'man of action' was appalled.

_"I have to do it all to him again? I suppose so, since the prat likely doesn't even remember it! Never thought I'd see the day when torture became a chore!"_

At least his Snape makeover would be remembered. He couldn't see the Potions professor wanting his memories toyed with.

The fact that the current subject of his thoughts was glaring at him with white hot hatred, and has been for two weeks, gave credence to his hunch. Snape never forgot any slight, ever.

_"Well, since he already hates me so; and since I need a good diversion to get to that whole Hagrid thing, guess he won't mind this much…" _

Harry nodded to Hermione after catching her eye; the signal he was about to leave for the grounds and his super secret meeting. She returned his nod, and produced a wand 'borrowed' from a guffawing Fred Weasley nearby. He wouldn't miss it, and would most likely approve the use for which it was about to be employed; if he knew about it, that is.

Harry gripped his invisibility cloak under the table and waited. He had to look as innocuous as possible.

Hermione got up from her place and took a few steps toward the exit and the ladies W/C, before kneeling to re-tie a shoelace. From her vantage point, she had a clear shot at Professor Snape, who was focused on a stupidly staring Harry. She took the shot with Fred's wand. It connected perfectly.

_"Hermione Granger: Magical Sniper!"_ She thought. She disposed of the 'murder weapon' discreetly.

Harry saw the spell impact the greasy man, and promptly disappeared from sight. No attention was being paid to the 'Boy Who Lived' as he rapidly exited the Hall. No, all available eyes and ears were focused on Severus Snape, who had just climbed atop the Staff table and began to re-enact the "Scottish Play", or Macbeth, as it's known to non-theatre people. Re-enact, as in every part in it's entirety from the beginning. The password protection code of 'Weasleys Rule!' would hopefully avert suspicion.

Harry figured he had a good two hours before he was missed.

* * *

><p>Hagrid greeted him outside his hut, and promptly hustled the boy inside. After instructing him to stay hidden and follow him, Hagrid met up with Madam Maxine of Beauxbatons and proceeded to lead them into the Forest.<p>

_"If Hagrid expects me to chaperone some sort of date of his, he had another thing coming! Tough to chaperone anything if one of the couple doesn't even know I'm here though." _

They went into the trees a little further, when Harry was struck by a horrifying thought.

_"He doesn't expect me to watch them or anything, right? Oh God! I'm not the cameraman in some sort of huge people porno, right? And I thought walking in on Dudders wanking was bad! I've no camera, but they could take the memory or something. I think I might puke…" _

When the group reached their destination, Harry realized he would not be tricked into voyeurism by the enormous groundskeeper. He was still left with the urge to vomit, however.

The four dragons in the clearing were majestic beasts. Both beautiful and terrible in their power and fury. Harry's thoughts on the matter were running in a different direction, though.

_"Oh, fuck me! They can't be serious, can they? If they're really trying to kill me, this would do it." _

A conversation overheard between Hagrid and a squat, burly redhead with the dragon handlers further illuminated what the task was to be: retrieve an egg from a nesting mother dragon.

Harry figured he'd seen all he wanted to; spying on snogging leviathans was most definitely not on the agenda!

Harry left quickly, but quietly, and headed back to the castle. He noticed the dour Russian, Karkaroff, lurking near the dragon enclosure.

_"Hmm, everyone's on the same page I guess. Except for Cedric; wouldn't expect a Hufflepuff to be playing dirty."_

Harry considered his situation for a moment. He was out after hours, but he was invisible. He also had another hour on the diversion to avoid being missed. With a snap decision, he changed direction towards Hogsmeade.

_"If I hurry, I can see Mooney and Padfoot, and maybe find a way out of this cluster fuck!"_

Harry ghosted into the crowded Three Broomsticks pub and made for the floo. A whispered bludgeoning hex towards one of the larger and more unruly patrons was enough to cause a diversion large and loud enough that no one would notice the floo fire activating. The fists, hexes, and flying chairs would cover his trail nicely.

* * *

><p>One spinny floo ride and face plant on the parquet later, Harry was being helped up by a surprised Remus Lupin.<p>

"Harry? What the devil are you doing here at this hour?"

"Moony! I don't have much time. We need to talk."

Remus may have wondered at the hows of Harry's sudden appearance in his parlor, but he knew the whys would be very important.

"Let me wake up the mutt, and then we can have that chat."

Ten minutes, a roused Sirius, and a cuppa later; Harry's urgency was fully transmitted to the remaining Marauders.

Sirius was angry. "How the fuck do they expect Harry to fight a dragon! The magic involved in such an undertaking is far beyond NEWT level. And they think I'm crazy!"

Remus was thoughtful. "You don't have to slay it, just avoid it. Getting the egg would be daunting, but not impossible. What's needed is a plan."

Harry, having ruminated on the situation the longest, and also having the unique position of being the one to actually have to do something about it, was trying his best to think outside the box.

He remembered a movie he'd seen once at the Dursley's. His muggle relatives tended to watch fairly shallow films that at times were more about the special effects than concerned with plot. Where Petunia preferred romantic movies with well built male leads, Vernon and Dudley liked shoot-em-ups and actioners. Overkill was the name of the game there; what a bullet could do, a rocket could do better.

_"I wonder…"_

"Remus, before you came to Hogwarts last year, what is it exactly you did for a living?"

The Marauders ceased their argument about the best way to handle a dragon and looked at Harry. They were uncharacteristically silent.

"Well Harry, you know as a werewolf, I didn't exactly have a lot of job offers coming my way."

"Well, okay. Wizards are assholes, we all know that. And terminally stupid too not to hire you because of your 'furry little problem'. But what did you do?"

"I don't see how that's really germane to the discussion, Harry."

"Remus, just trust me on this one. Where did you work for all those years?"

"Yeah, what were you up to while I was vacationing at 'Club Azkaban'?" Sirius joined the conversation with a vengeance.

"Sirius, please. Remus, no one's accusing you of anything. I just have to know what your 'alternative skills' might be. I have an idea here."

_"It's like pulling teeth! Well, actually pulling teeth wasn't all that bad…"_

Remus was hesitant. "Well, I worked in the muggle world for a while."

"Doing?" Harry prompted. If this kept up, Snape would have to start on Hamlet soon!

"I was… I worked in muggle munitions."

_"Yes!" _"Like manufacturing and such?" Harry was the face of innocence.

"No, like sales; and re-sales. Of an illegal and unregulated nature."

"You were a gun runner? That's it? Here I was worried you were a gigolo or something!" Harry theatrically wiped the sweat from his brow.

"Him? A Giggolo? Bwah haa haa!" Sirius was somewhat amused.

"I'm not proud of it! It's illegal, and immoral." Poor Remus with those pesky morals!

"Remus, listen to me. You are the coolest uncle a lad could ask for! You turn into a wolf once a month and you used to be a shady arms dealer; do you have any idea how awesome that is?" Harry beamed at the embarrassed werewolf.

Sirius was still carrying on, unable to stop braying in mirth. A silencing spell at least made it marginally less annoying.

Harry hoped for the best. "Do you still maintain any of your old contacts?"

"A few, for old time's sake."

Harry's grin was positively Slytherin in its deviousness.

"Moony, I'm going to have a shopping list for you. Lots of stuff that goes boom will be on it."

Remus' grin was equally as devious, if a bit more feral.

"I think the judges are in for a bit of a surprise."

"Yes they are, Moony. Yes they are."


	7. Cold War Castoffs

A/N: I don't own it. Not the books, the movies, the clothing lines, the video games, the Lego sets, the decorative chess sets, or even the online parodies. Jeez, this is getting depressing!

One Wizard Too Many Ch 7

Cold War Cast-Offs

With a framework of a plan in place to deal with the 'Dragon Problem' presented to Remus Lupin, it was time for Harry to return to Hogwarts. He accepted the werewolf's offer to side-along apparate him to Hogwarts gates, as it was both quicker and more likely to have fewer Aurors hanging about than his method of travel inbound (causing a near-riot at the Three Broomsticks and 'borrowing' their floo in the mayhem).

Just before taking harry back, Remus had a question.

"Just how did you know I was an arms dealer in the muggle world? Thought I played that very close to the vest."

Harry looked a little guilty. "Well, I didn't know exactly. Something about you seemed just a bit shady and I was playing for a break. If you'd have been a drug dealer or something, I'd have tried to find a way to make that work for me too. Sorry about that."

Remus laughed. "No worries. I just wonder how you might have used a few kilo's of pure Columbian to get past a Dragon though!"

Harry didn't miss a beat. "Easy, either dose the dragon or the crowd. Dragon has a fatal heart attack or gets so stoned she doesn't notice I filch an egg. Crowd gets higher than a broomstick and I can steal an egg somewhere in the confusion. Easy, really."

Remus just looked at him for a moment. "I think even old Salazar Slytherin might be taken aback by you sometimes…"

Harry just grinned as they apparated away.

* * *

><p>He managed to sneak back to his spot in the Great Hall as Snape was re-enacting Mac Duff slaying the traitorous Mac Beth and the final soliloquies. The student body and staff were all enraptured by the bravura performance. Professor McGonagall even had a few tears in her eyes as the Lord of Mowbray met his end. Harry removed his cloak and winked at a relieved Hermione.<p>

"What happened with Hagrid?" She just had to know.

"Later; brilliant job, by the way. Why Mac Beth though?"

"Why not? It's culturally important, has numerous wizarding references, we're in a Scottish castle, and it teaches an important lesson about treachery and revenge. Professor McGonagall seems to love it!"

Harry looked at his Head of House for a moment. She had been strangely quiet since the whole Goblet debacle. _"Really expected more support from her…" _

He looked at Hermione and gave her a big grin. "Well, it worked perfectly. I even got over to see the mangy mutts."

"Hmm, I'm not one for divination, but I foresee a long conversation in our future. Care to drop at least a hint for me?" She just could not stand not knowing something. The adorable pout she had made it very difficult to resist.

He didn't want to worry her, but a Hermione pout was beyond his meager powers of resistance.

"Well, I may consider adopting Saint George as my new patron."

She looked at him quizzically for a moment, mouthing 'Saint George?', before she made the connection. She paled and her eyes went wide. She whispered "Dragons?"

Harry nodded. There was no fooling her.

She was about to say something in disbelief, when Snape finally finished his recital. The spell was complete.

The Potions Professor stood stock still on the table he had appropriated for a stage for a moment, glanced around at the awestruck students, and wondered at what exactly was happening.

Just as he looked toward Dumbledore to give him a hint as to what exactly he had been doing for the past two hours, the Hall erupted in applause. He looked over the crowd with a stunned expression on his sallow face as students rose for the ovation. Upper year students conjured flowers to toss at him whilst the uncouth whistled. Dumbledore twinkled in glee and McGonagall fought back tears to applaud heartily. Even little Professor Flitwick clambered onto a chair to add his approval to the din.

At the Gryffindor table, Nearly-Headless Nick was effusive in his praise: "Even better than the original run at the old Globe Theatre!"

Harry could only give Hermione a grin and a pat on the hand for a job well done. Her face was still pale from the earlier revelation, but she grinned back.

Snape didn't know what the devil was happening, but he was mortal certain that whatever it was, Potter was behind it!

* * *

><p>Once the curtain call had ended and a little forensic work performed, it was discovered that Fred Weasley seemed to be the perpetrator. He of course denied it adamantly, and nearly bellowed in outrage when Snape removed fifty points from Gryffindor for the 'heinous crime against his person.' Discovery of the password spell to be 'Weasleys Rule' seemed to further solidify the case against the twins. Fred was somewhat mollified when McGonagall gave him one hundred points in recognition of 'cultural contributions to the school'. (Hermione had shown the twins that particular trick a few weeks ago, against her better judgment. Thankfully she had already worked out a counter to the jinx which prevented its use against her or Harry) Snape took this poorly and stomped off in a huff, refusing all autograph requests as he went. Finally, the tired and culturally enlightened students retired for the evening.<p>

Most of them, anyway.

"Okay Harry, I've been a good girl so far tonight. Time to spill. What happened?"

The pair was on their couch in the common room and ensconced within a silencing charm. Hermione was looking at Harry intently; her 'tell me now, or else' expression firmly in place. Harry could only sigh.

"Hagrid led me down to the mysterious enclosure hard by the forest. Basically, it's a dragon pen. There are four very big and angry mamma dragons that are to guard a golden egg we have to get, somehow."

Hermione looked horrified. She squeaked and hugged him, hard.

"Oh Harry, this is ridiculous! How can they expect you to fight a dragon?"

"I know, Hermione. I know." He rubbed her back to soothe the distraught girl.

She spoke from the vicinity of Harry's chest. "What did Padfoot and Mooney have to say?"

"Well, their reactions were similar to yours. Less hugging, though."

She sat up, looking the teeniest bit embarrassed.

He took her hands as he continued. "Paddy was just angry, but Mooney may have helped me come up with a plan of sorts."

"Oh?"

"Well, it's complicated, and it involves something Mooney may have left off of his CV. But rest assured, you have a critical role to play in it."

"Ah, the usual hare brained scheme that requires you to do something insanely dangerous and me to pull your chestnuts out of the fire again, correct?" She was a bit scared, but game.

"Wouldn't be a 'Harry Potter Masterpiece' with out that, now would it?"

"Only you, Harry." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "By the way, how did you contact Sirius and Remus?"

Harry began to look just a little shifty. "Snuck through the floo at the Three Broomsticks, but that's not important."

"Really, that far off the grounds? How did you get through it unnoticed?"

"Hermione, dragons! Let's focus on the dragons."

"How, Harry?" Hermione was practicing her 'stern prefect' look for next year. It didn't need much work, really.

"Well, I mighta started a tiny little bar fight, or something."

"What? You started a bar brawl?"

"It worked really well! Nobody would've noticed the floo going off what with some big guys slashing at each other with broken butterbeer bottles!"

Hermione just rubbed her eyes tiredly. _"I should really learn to expect these sorts of things."_

Harry continued. "The crash of breaking chairs definitely helped hide the floo sound, but things really got crazy when Madam Rosmerta got involved. Who knew she kept a shotgun behind the bar?"

"Harry, would it matter if I told you to never do anything like that again?"

Harry looked contrite. "I'm sorry; I don't want to cause mayhem like that. It just seems to happen."

"That's okay dear, that's okay."

* * *

><p>The next morning, the duo resumed their discussions. Since a large part of the plan revolved around what Remus could 'acquire', Harry decided to ask Hermione to teach him the summoning charm. She of course was happy to help, but wanted to know what he might be summoning.<p>

Harry was conflicted. _"I never hide anything from her, but if she knew exactly what I'd be summoning, she might freak. Do I lie? What to do?" _

He decided to be as honest as he could.

"Hermione, I'm not totally sure what I'm going to use, but I know you might not like it."

She turned slowly to look at him.

Calmly, she asked. "What might I not like, Harry?" Too calmly.

"Well, that depends. How do you like dragons?"

Hermione sighed. She tended to do that a lot.

"Harry. I can see where this is going. You do know you're probably not supposed to kill them, right?"

"Well, they're not supposed to try and kill me, and that doesn't seem to be stopping them!"

She walked to him and put a hand on his arm. "I know. It's not fair. But you have to be careful when it comes to this whole violence thing, it just gets out of control too easily." She took his hand. "I just don't want to see you get hurt."

Harry sighed. "Look, I don't know what sort of goodies Remus might come up with, but my plan here is to go all muggle. In fact, I'm going to try to use mostly mundane methods throughout this stupid tournament if I can. Teach those morons to look down on us muggle borns!"

Hermione looked at him a moment. "Okay, I see what you're doing and I can give it my 'provisional' approval. Just _please_ try not to kill too many people or animals, please?"

Harry grinned. "Moi? You seem to make me out to be a psycho killer or something?"

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, _where_ would I get that idea?"

* * *

><p>Two days later, Harry received a note from an unknown owl at breakfast. The message was short and to the point.<p>

"Have that new bludgers you asked for. Managed to get a used Russian set, real cheap. Should make quiddich practice very interesting. See you soon." Remus. 

Looks like Harry was about to reap some 'Dividends of Peace'. Might not be too peaceful for Hogwarts, though…

* * *

><p>AN: Thanks for all the reviews! Never fear, more mayhem is coming soon. This is more of a 'connecting chapter', to get the plot up to the first task.

BTW: a 'Peace Dividend' was a phrase tossed around in the early 90's and meant that the NATO and former Warsaw Pact nations could safely downsize their militaries with the end of the Cold War. All that extra funding was supposed to create a better world, or something. Wonder what happened?


	8. Flashbacks and Back Blasts

A/N: As you may have guessed, I still don't own anything beyond this odd little plot.

One Wizard Too Many Ch 8

Flashbacks and Back Blasts

Harry sat sprawled out on a folding chair in the Champions Tent awaiting his first task. His body language spoke of little besides boredom; in marked contrast to the other three champions in their claimed corners.

_"At least they have someone to talk to!"_ Thought Harry, a bit peevishly.

The other contestants were attended by either their headmasters or, in Cedric's case, head of house. Harry, of course, was alone. His head of house, the unusually frosty McGonagall, would not be helping him in the tournament, and his assigned faculty advisor Moody was just too creepy to be around for long periods. Professor Moody's bizarre eye was also being used to screen the audience at the event for contraband and weapons. He would have preferred Hermione there with him, but Dumbledore insisted she join the students in the stands.

"_Oh well, last minute coaching isn't going to help now; not that I wasn't offered any!"_

Oddly enough, Bagman had approached him as he was entering the tent with an offer of help of some kind. Harry managed to decline politely. He would have declined impolitely, but the amount of pull the empty headed ex athlete seemed to have was as yet unknown to him. The man seemed to remind him a bit of the Yank muggle athlete OJ Simpson: seemingly pleasant enough, but with something a bit unsettling about him. Harry would be on his guard around the ditzy former chaser.

Harry yawned and stretched a bit from his seat, drawing an annoyed glance from Viktor Krum. The 'Bulgarian Bon Bon' was sitting with Karkaroff and speaking in low tones. Harry grinned and winked at the irritated Durmstranger. This only increased Krum's irritation as he turned to ignore the younger boy.

Harry then turned his gaze upon his countryman, Cedric Diggory. The lad was pale, but game; and discussing matters of strategy with the kindly herbology professor. Cedric noticed his glance, and gave him a firm nod and a grin. Harry gave him a big grin and thumbs up.

"_Hufflepuffs are all so nice. Shame really, they might be better off if they all behaved like self-interested pricks! Kinda like I do, really."_

He couldn't help but recall Cedric's expression when Harry told him of the Dragons.

"_Poor guy looked like a vampire, he was so pale!" _

* * *

><p><strong>Flashback <strong>

The incident occurred a few days after 'Severus the Great' performed his impromptu rendition of Macbeth as post-prandial entertainment in the Great Hall. Oddly enough, he didn't appreciate the standing ovations his Potions classes had received in the days afterward. Dumbledore refused to confirm the detentions given to those who 'merely appreciated the Professor's fantastic potions making ability'. Snape was, as ever, not amused.

As Harry and Hermione made their way across the courtyard from the irritable Potioneer's class; when Hermione spotted a group of Hufflepuffs being led by Cedric.

"Harry, whom exactly did you say knew about the dragons?"

"Big Maxine, Karky, Hagrid, and myself. Why?"

"Was anyone there who might tell Cedric?"

"Err, I really don't know. Hagrid might. But then again, Hagrid would tell anyone anything."

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment. Harry thought it a very cute look for her.

"Well, what harm would there be if you told him about it?"

"Me? Why? He's competing against me. Not that I'm trying to win or anything."

Hermione looked at him a bit sternly.

"Harry, don't be a jerk. Just tell him, okay?"

"Okay, okay. I see your point. It's just weird to be nice to people sometimes."

Her expression softened.

"You don't have to always be ripping people's teeth out or trying to drown them. The Harry I know is a wonderful person."

He grinned at her.

"I'm wonderful to you only because it's you. No one else is good enough for the 'real' me."

She blushed a little.

"Oh, you! Don't try to butter me up! Just go talk to Cedric.'

"But I want to butter you up."

The stern look mixed with the blush.

"Enough banter, Mister Flirty McFlirt! Just tell the clueless Hufflepuff about the dragons waiting to gobble him up already!"

Harry snapped off a salute and a saucy grin, and then headed off to talk to the popular Hufflepuff.

Things began to get frosty for Harry as he approached Cedric's little group. He was a bit dismayed to see Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones sporting the Malfoy-designed buttons, the pair had always seemed so friendly towards him before. He was used to being disliked; anyone who'd grown up at the hands of the Dursley's would know the concept of 'dislike' intimately; but being actively hated by cute girls did cut a bit rough.

He plowed ahead.

"Cedric, I'd like a word, please."

The girls and an unknown seventh year boy frowned. The boy spoke.

"It's Mister Diggory to you cheater!"

The girls activated their button to display 'Potter Stinks!' clearly showing their opinion of Harry Potter.

Harry sighed, tiredly.

_"Wish I could just go dark! It would make things SO much easier!"_

"Fine." Answered Harry. "I'd like a word with _Mister_ Diggory, if you wouldn't mind getting your great arse out of the way first."

The boy glowered at the insult.

"Why would he want to talk to you, cheater?"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. He really had better things to do.

"That's between me and _Mister_ Diggory, whomever you are. Now why don't you toddle off out of my sight before I severely injure you?"

"What makes you think you can, cheat?" The boy began to flex his muscles and try to look intimidating.

"Showing big for the girls, eh? How about you just go away and let me talk to Cedric, alright?" Hermione made him promise to try to not hurt people. He was really trying here!

The boy responded with a shove, in typical schoolyard fashion. Cedric began to look a little embarrassed. Hannah and Susan seemed a little shocked. The boy gloated. Harry just looked bored.

Harry sighed; he hated breaking his promises to Hermione.

"Listen, if you want to feel me up, you're gonna have to buy me dinner first. Just let me talk to Cedric and I'll be out of your hair. Okay?"

The boy just grinned nastily and reared back to shove Harry again.

_"Oh, for the love of…"_

Harry rolled his shoulders to the right with the shove, pinning the boys left wrist to his right shoulder with his arm and grabbing the boy's right wrist with his right. He bent away and cocked his left arm in. Harry then drove his left elbow in to the boy's nose very hard. The resulting crunch echoed across the courtyard. The boy was bent slightly at the waist and holding his nose with both hands. Harry then emulated David Beckham and gave his best long-ball kick to the boy's groin, using his toe instead of the instep, naturally. The now incapacitated boy fell face first into the cobblestones and began retching.

Harry straightened his robes and glared at the now fully shocked Hufflepuff girls. They regarded him with very wide eyes.

"What?" He demanded. The girls scampered.

Cedric looked a little pale and drew his wand on Harry.

"Cedric! I just wanted to talk! No more violence, I promise."

Cedric lowered his wand and nodded. The sudden attack had upset him, it seems.

_"Poor thing looks fit to wet himself at the sight of a little o' the dirty!" _

Growing up with Dudley as a close relative (in proximity if not familial affection), had long since inured Harry to sudden bouts of violence.

"Look, Cedric. I'm sorry I had to smack down your friend, but he had it coming. I just wanted to ask you about this stupid tourney."

Cedric grinned a little.

"It's ok. Flannigan is a bit of a prat sometimes, but alright in the main. Maybe this'll teach him to be a little more tolerant to others."

Harry nodded. He really didn't give a toss about the seventh year who was trying to get to his knees in a puddle of his own vomit a few feet away, but the niceties had to be maintained. Sometimes, anyway. But time to get down to business.

"Listen, has anyone told you about the first task?"

"Only what we all were told; that bit about fire and air and all that. Why?"

"I know what it is to be. And so does Krum and the French bird."

"How? All of you cheated?" Cedric was taken aback.

Harry rolled his eyes. _"Someone save this poor prick from himself!"_

"Cedric, I don't give a flying fuck what you think about it! I'm trying to save your sodding life here! They've big scary dragons, four of them. We have to get an egg from underneath them, preferably without dying a very messy death. Now, I think you're a holier-than-thou arsehole and maybe too pretty to be completely straight, but I don't want to see you get turned into dragon dung fertilizer that Sprout seems so fond of!"

This gave Cedric a bit of pause, understandably. He nodded shakily in thanks.

"Now we're all on the same page. And you're welcome."

Harry spun on his heel and returned to a waiting Hermione.

"I leave you alone for five minutes, and you have someone on the ground puking his guts up!" Hermione was a bit scolding in her tone.

"Guess you'll always have to be by my side then. To keep me nice and all." He took her hand as they walked away.

"Sounds like a full time job." She smiled a little.

"Well, I'm currently taking applications. Interested?"

"I might submit a CV, but the health benefits sound a bit dodgy. You might have to come across with some perks and a salary increase." She teased.

"I think we could come to a satisfactory negotiation."

"Best leave that to the solicitors. In the mean time, how are you on the Herbology assignment?"

* * *

><p><strong>The Present Day<strong>

Cedric had finally gotten the message, and began to adjust his strategy accordingly. Whether or not that strategy would succeed would be determined shortly. Harry just hoped they wouldn't have to sift through mountains of Swedish Short Snout manure to find him.

He then turned his wandering attention to the Beauxbatons Champion, one Fleur Delacoeur. She was blonde, pretty hot, apparently one quarter veela, and arrogant enough to make a Parisian waiter blush. She was also, at this time, quite nervous to be facing a Welsh Green dragon.

_"Understandable, really. Mortal peril seems to bring out the best in her, or at least a reduction of the sneers and ridiculous comments." _

Harry returned his gaze to the front, settling on an aimless look into the middle distance as he focused on his thoughts. Naturally, of the four dragons, he would face the worst.

_"Sometimes, I think fate just hates my guts!"_

Were he to face the Hungarian Horntail in conventional magical combat, he would have a most difficult task indeed.

_"Let's see: breathes fire, hide like a tank, flies rather well, and has a tail like a medieval battle mace. Awesome."_

He really hoped his crazy plan worked.

One by one, the champions filed out of the little tent to meet their fate, leaving Harry for last. He really wished there was a telly or something available, as the waiting was starting to drive him to distraction.

* * *

><p>Finally, his turn came.<p>

He stepped out of the tent and into bright sunshine. The cheering and crowd noise also hit him as he left the silencing charm behind.

_"Bunch of pricks want to see me get flash-fried!" _Harry had little love for the bloodthirsty crowd.

He strode forward into the enclosure as he was announced to the waiting throng. He noticed a fair amount of booing emanating from the Hogwarts section, but couldn't bring himself to care much. When Bagman announced him as representing Hogwarts however, he did react. A quick volume enhancement charm (sonorous) to his throat and he was ready to rebut.

"Mister Bagman! I don't represent Hogwarts!"

The celebrity announcer was confused.

"But of course you do! You go here!"

"Be that as it may, I do not represent this school."

The crowd quieted, also confused.

Bagman asked. "Well, who do you represent then?"

Harry smiled. "Put me down for 'Unwilling Participant due to the interference of inbred Death Eaters and the assent of a corrupt and incompetent Ministry'."

Most of the crowd was a bit nonplussed, but Hermione gave a big grin at his cheek.

"Err, well, let's just shorten it to 'Unwilling Participant' then."

"Okay, for the sake of brevity, I accept."

Bagman finished the announcements and signaled the beginning of the task.

_"Showtime!"_

Harry ran for the nearest rock and drew his wand. The Horntail saw this and began trying to quickie-flambé the lad.

He paused for a moment as dragon fire flashed overhead, thankfully deflected by the large boulders. He was a bit stunned by the pure power and heat emanating from the beast, and noticed a glassy eyed Hagrid standing next to the burly redhead from the dragon reserve. Both were obviously in ecstasy watching the great reptile try and fry him.

_"Wankers are probably getting off on this!" _

Harry angrily raised his wand and shouted "Accio special package!"

_"I'll show them all what's what!"_

A minute went by as the dragon began to flame an area around the rock, cutting off any avenues of escape for the beleaguered wizard. He knew it would take time for the 'special package' to arrive from its hiding place near the greenhouses, but he did also hate waiting.

_"Damnit! Where are you?"_

Draco Malfoy began taunting him for his apparent cowardice. Harry promised himself that their next little 'tete-a-tete' would be especially painful and unforgettable for the blond Slytherin.

Finally, he could spy an object zooming toward him from the direction of the castle.

As the 'special package' crossed the crowd's line of sight, they saw it to be a green crate with reddish Cyrillic writing on it. Needless to say, the crowd continued in their confusion.

Harry quickly guided the crate in to his hiding place before the flames could 'discomfit' its contents. It did react badly to excessive heat, after all.

The crate was quickly opened and rapidly unpacked what was about to become his new best friend. A Soviet made RPG 7 with five rounds.

Harry ginned. _"Solkin Syn!"_

Bagman announced. "And Potter seems to have summoned _something_ from the castle and is quickly assembling it. Wonder what it is?"

Harry had the anti-tank weapon together quickly, thanks to the intensive training Remus Lupin had provided. The werewolf proved to be a virtual encyclopedia on muggle weapons and methods of creating mayhem.

_"Hate to break it to Sirius, but Moony might just become my favorite uncle!"_

As he waited for the dragon to cease spewing fire to take a breath, he thought of the unique flight characteristics of the RPG round. It had a tendency to steer into a wind, as said wind exerted pressure on its guide fins. It wouldn't ablate a dragon's skin around its head or chest, probably. They lacked a real dragon to test it on, so were somewhat unsure as to the real effects. The armor they'd collected had been shredded, but Moony pointed out that a real dragon has a pretty thick skull and rib cage.

There was one spot Harry knew all magical creatures to be a bit vulnerable, however.

The Horntail paused to take a breath. Even its capacious lungs weren't bottomless.

Harry quickly popped up and drew aim. Behind him, the crowd gasped. He heard none of this as he zeroed in on his target.

_"Forty Yards. Pretty close in shot!"_

The dragon flexed its jaw to open and vomit a jet of fire at the impudent wizard.

Harry noticed this, and pulled the trigger. The back blast kicked up a large cloud of dust as he ducked quickly.

The bulbous grenade flew quickly towards the now open mouth of the dragon, the wind from its expelled breath helping to guide it in. Just as the dragon wondered idly what was flying toward it, the round exploded on the dragon's soft palate.

Dragon skulls are made to be very tough, but they were never designed to contain an explosion from within.

With a dull boom, the Horntail's head exploded in a shower of gore.

"This is my boomstick!" Harry said, mostly to himself.

He stood up in time to see the now decapitated beast fall on to its side and twitch a bit, the ground around its missing head awash in blood. A loud sob came from Hagrid's direction. The crowd was silent.

_"That was way more efficient than Gryffindor's sword!"_ Thought Harry, remembering his run in with a rampaging basilisk a few years ago.

Harry put the RPG launcher down and strolled up to the now-undefended nest, scooping up the egg with ease. He looked at the stunned crowd for a moment and shrugged.

Bagman announced. "And Potter defeats the task with the use of a summoning charm and a, err, muggle reducto in a tube, or something."

Harry suddenly realized he was hungry, so he ambled over to the egress from the enclosure.

_"Wonder if Hermione wants to catch an early dinner. Massive destruction sure builds up quite the appetite!"_


	9. Horntail Down

A/N: You know it, I know it; JKR is too rich to care. I don't own it!

One Wizard Too Many Ch 9

Horntail Down

Harry left the Dragon enclosure to complete silence. Well, almost complete silence; Hagrid's sobs and sniffles were audible in the distance. The formerly roaring crowd had been stilled (and the creature loving groundskeeper devastated) by the violent decapitation of one Hungarian Horntail. Harry appeared mostly unconcerned.

_"Sorry Hagrid, that thing was trying to kill me. I just got to it first."_

His first stop was the medical tent, where all the other champions had retired to have their various injuries healed. As Harry was not hurt (beyond the pain of boredom), his visit was brief. Madam Pomfrey fussed over him for a moment, muttering in her usual fashion. To her surprise, Harry was completely unharmed.

"Amazing! Every other champion was at least slightly injured."

Harry attributed his health to a combination of 'luck, good looks, and the engineering skills of the proletariat'.

Madam Pomfrey was unamused, but relieved.

He nodded to Cedric, who was lying on a cot and seemingly slathered with burn ointment. His transfigured dogs had only distracted the Short Snout for so long. It seemed it was just long enough. The singed Hufflepuff nodded back with an awed look on his face.

The other champions seemed less enamored, however.

Krum had gotten cut up trying to get out of the way of a rampaging Chinese Fireball. He managed to get his egg, but the smashing of the real eggs would drastically reduce his score. Somehow, his expression was even nastier than usual when he gave Harry the customary glare.

"_Cheer up Vicky! It's not like you killed a whole dragon or anything!"_

The French champion Delacoeur also secured the golden egg from her Welsh Green. She was less than pleased at being set on fire and having to hurriedly remove most of her clothing during the securing. It would also appear that many Beauxbatons girls preferred to go 'sans brazier' under their robes. It was rumored that all the first year boys who witnessed the task all experienced a full octave drop in their voices.

"_Oh sure, topless flaming veela on display and all I get to see is the inside of a stupid tent!"_

He did get a full on view of Fleur's arrogant sneer. Wasn't nearly as edifying, though.

With a snicker and a small chuckle, Harry began to ignore the other competitors in favor of giving the Matron his best 'puppy dog' eyes to try and cajole an escape from this medical purgatory.

_"Please just let me go! Please!"_

"Oh, just go then, Mister Potter! You've no need to look at me like you're about to cry!"

Apparently, his best wasn't all that good, but good enough.

Stepping out of the tent, he noticed the largish crowd that had formed between him and the castle. Based on their quizzical expressions and glimmers of interest that appeared when he did, Harry knew many of them wanted to talk to him.

_"Shit. Wish I could lob a few RPG's at 'em."_

Unfortunately for Harry, Remus had requested that Dobby secure the launcher and spare ammunition, and return them to the werewolf's abode. This, however, left Harry without an easy way to scatter the crowd and proceed about his business.

His immediate business consisted of:

1. Finding Hermione

2. Escaping this crowd

3. Go to dinner

4. Not have to kill or maim anyone to do it (Optional)

But of course, fate decided that was too easy. He sighed and ploughed into the crowd.

First on the receiving line was a somewhat contrite looking Ron Weasley.

"Harry! That was wicked mate! Reckon maybe you didn't cheat to get in after all!"

Harry did not stop, but did deign to reply.

"Just figured that out? Smart man."

"Yeah, that dragon looked scary! When Charlie told me about them, I never thought they'd be that frightening!"

Harry shot him a look. _"Bastard knew and didn't tell me. Nice of him, the prick!"_

He could only grunt in response. He did try to drown the ginger irritant, after all.

Ron continued. "So I guess I forgive you, and we can be mates…"

Harry interrupted. "No."

"…again, just like old times." Ron, as ever, was oblivious.

"Ron, go away."

"But Harry, we're mates again!"

"No Ron, we're not."

"But I forgave you!"

Harry stopped and turned to the taller redhead.

"Good. I don't care. Go away." He continued to carve a path through the throng.

Ron was left gaping in his wake. Harry just sighed in irritation.

_"Where in the world could Hermione be?"_

Next in his path were the ever irrepressible Weasley twins.

"Harry mate, that was awesome!"

"Yeah! Where did you get something like that?"

Harry replied. "The former Soviet Union." He continued to scan the crowd for a familiar bushy hairstyle.

Fred (or George, but it really didn't matter.) continued.

"Do you think you might have any left over for us?"

Harry stopped and recalled some words of warning given by Remus.

**"Harry, whatever you do, do not; repeat, do not ever let the Weasley Twins get their hands on the RPG! Ever! The bloody fools are likely to lay waste to half of Hogsmeade if you do. Hundreds could die and worse, I'd have to listen to that fat harpy Molly screech about some shite. I do not want to listen to fat harpies screech about some shite, clear?"**

"Eh, I don't think so guys. But you can ask Lupin if he knows where any more might be hiding."

The twins looked a little down, but were too wound up from the spectacle to stay quiet for long.

Harry next encountered Hagrid and Charlie on his perambulations. Both were teary eyed, and Charlie looked a little angry. Hagrid just looked like someone killed his puppy; which _was,_ in a way, what happened.

"Arry! 'ow could yeh? 'Twas just a harmless little dragon!"

"Harmless? Hagrid, the thing tried to fry me up the minute it saw me!"

Just for a lark, Harry thought one day he'd try logic and common sense on the large and dense man.

"She wa' just funnin wit ya! Didn't mean nuthin by it!"

"I think she was trying very hard to kill me. You know how much I hate that!"

Hagrid looked a little contrite.

"Okay, mehbe she was. But did ya hafta blow it up?"

Charlie decided to weigh in.

"Yeah, do you know how much a dragon costs? Did you have to kill it?"

"Gentlemen. It. Tried. To. Kill. Me. First. Maybe if it hadn't been a deadly creature out after my blood or if I hadn't been entered into this massive fuckup of a tournament against my will in an effort to end me; then maybe I'd have come up with something else. As it stands, my policy is to do to others first what they are attempting to do to me. And no, Charlie, I have no earthly clue how much a fire breathing monster costs on the open market."

Charlie glowered a bit. "Six thousand Galleons! I helped raise that Horntail from an egg, and it would cost Six K to replace her!"

"Send the bill to Barty boy over there. He thought up this stupid shit."

Charlie wasn't done. "Don't you even care, Potter? Or are you so dark that you don't care about killing innocent creatures any more?"

This was a very unwise thing for any Weasley to say to Harry.

He spun around and glared at the bulky man. "Oh, kill without a care, do I? Just slaughter animals for fun, do I? Didn't hear any of you ginger fucktards complaining two years ago when I 'murdered' a thousand year old basilisk to save your fucking sister, did I? No, it was all 'hero Harry' then! You all make me sick!"

Harry turned to leave, but had a parting shot.

"By the way, I'm not dark. Nor am I light. I'm grey, not some stupid fucking cartoon character! I do what I must to survive. You'll do well to remember that."

He left the pair behind as he continued to search out Hermione.

_"Please just appear and get me away from these idiots!"_

Unfortunately, his bushy haired angel was still unseen when he was approached by the judges and Ministry representatives.

_"Motherfucker!" _

Harry was not best pleased.

Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Maxine, Crouch, his lapdog Percy, and a few other faculty seemed to wish a word with the young man.

Barty Crouch seemed almost beyond words. Unfortunately he was only almost.

"Potter! What the hell did you do?"

"Survived." Harry continued on his way.

"Don't you walk away from me! I want an explanation!"

Harry was seriously annoyed now. _"They want a spat? Fine with me!"_

"You see Barty, I was just an innocent fourth year trying to get through school, maybe have a little fun, maybe ask a girl out or something; when some stupid murderous bastard tries to get me killed. Now, as if that wasn't bad enough, some other bastards; these ones are both stupid and fucking incompetent, decide to help the first bastard try and kill me by making me compete in this fucking mess. Another bastard, this one is really old and smells like lemon drops and goat jizz; he doesn't say anything to help me out, even though it's his fucking job. As a result of the old bastard, now ninety nine percent of the so called 'students' of this fucking so called 'institution' consider me to be a cheat and a fraud. Good thing I don't give a flying fuck what those sheep think. No, good for me that I can tell them to all go and fuck themselves with the fucking whomping willow right in their wizarding arses and feel pretty happy about it. So anyway, here I am trying not to get my stupid arse killed, and one of the stupid and fucking incompetent bastards has the fucking gall to ask me why one of their 'flying and fire spewing death beasts' just happened to have its fucking head removed by a fucking rocket propelled fucking grenade, what am I supposed to say? Hmm? Sorry I accidentally decapitated your dragon?"

Dumbledore and the Ministry members were somewhat taken aback by the tirade. Madam Maxine seemed a bit affronted by the tone and language, but Karkaroff looked hugely amused. The rest of the watching throng was just stunned by the waves of magic pouring off of the young man. Harry upset was quite the sight.

Harry just looked at Crouch and was dismayed to see a lack of any real understanding there. He sighed and continued in a quieter tone.

"Look, bottom line; I don't want to be here. If you are stupid enough to put something deadly in my path; as it seems you are; I will do my best to utterly devastate that something. I don't want to die. Period. Missus Horntail Dragon was violently reduced to potions ingredients and goblin delicacies because _you _put her there. Anyone who tries to interfere with myself or Miss Granger are going to be hurt; badly. I will not apologize. I will not yield. And if I find any of you had anything to do with getting my name in this motherfucking Goblet, I will kill you and piss on your smoldering corpse."

He turned away, not wanting to hear whatever any of them had to say in rebuttal. Fortunately, Hermione was waiting nearby. She looked equal parts amused and concerned.

"You know, I have to decide if I should scold you for your language, for killing the dragon, for scaring me half to death in the task, or being rude to the faculty!" She softened the remark with a small smile.

"Hermione, you have no idea how glad I am to see you!" He gave her a big hug and led her towards the castle.

"Not half as glad as I am to see you. Alive and in one piece!"

"Yeah."

"Did you see your score?" Hermione did have a thing with grading, after all.

"Nope."

"Silly question, but do you care?"

"Nope."

"Would you care if they gave you a zero?"

"Nope."

"Ok, just checking. 'Cause they did, you know."

"Cool."

"Do you care about anything that happened today?"

He stopped and looked at her. Deep down, he could see that she had been terrified for him.

He spoke softly.

"I care that I'm here, now, with you. Everything and everyone else can go hang for the time being. Nothing matters but us."

She hugged him hard and sighed into his shoulder.

"Oh Harry."

* * *

><p>AN: Has anyone noticed that Hagrid seems to be the mortal enemy of spellcheckers everywhere. Mine did not like his dialogue at all!


	10. Spheres and Ellipses

A/N: Obligatory disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter story. You probably are aware of this, as my name isn't JK Rowling. I should also point out that you are reading this for free, and Warner Brothers most likely won't make a movie out of this and pay me millions. Now that I've thoroughly depressed myself; on with the story.

One Wizard Too Many

Ch 10

Spheres and Ellipses

One week after the First Task found Harry and Hermione at their usual spot in the library working on their latest problem. Namely, that egg.

"It really sounds like a bunch of screaming to me." Harry winced at the memory of his first opening of the egg. _"If that thing gives me tinnitus, I'm suing!" _

"It must be some sort of decipherable language. Maybe we're not doing something right." Hermione never met an intellectual challenge she couldn't beat. With Harry's life at stake, she wasn't about to back down now.

"What else can we be doing? I get that we shouldn't just expect to pop that thing open and have it tell us exactly what to do, but having our eardrums blasted out is a bit much!"

Hermione was in full research mode. "Maybe if we slow it down, or change the frequency or something."

"If that doesn't work, maybe we can borrow Percy and a set of thumbscrews from Flitch."

"No Harry. We need to figure out how to change the medium of transmission for this egg."

"You sure? We could give Barty a little of the ol' ultra violence."

"I don't think I'm cut out to be one of your Droogies, Harry."

"You sure? You'd look adorable in a little bowler hat."

"And you'd look disturbing in some oversized codpiece."

"How do you know it would be 'oversized'?" Harry arched an eyebrow.

Hermione muttered something that sounded a little like "Boys!" and then continued. "The egg, Harry. Let's worry about the egg."

"You might be right. That eye shadow thing always freaked me out a little."

"You and me both. Now, muggle means to slow the screeching wouldn't work here. My tape recorder fried two days into First Year from all the ambient magic."

"Well, there must be some sort of magical means of slowing the noise. Otherwise how would any of the other champions figure it out?"

"I haven't heard of a charm or anything that would do that. Maybe a pensieve with a slowed playback."

"Seems complicated. I know Dumbledore has one, but where else does one find a penseive?"

"True, they are very rare." Hermione thought for a moment. "Let's forget what we don't know for a moment and concentrate on what we do."

Harry sat up. "Okay, we know it's a goblin made egg."

"Yes, but the language isn't a form of Gobbledygook that we know of."

"True. In fact, since the translation spell you tried on it apparently did nothing, it's most likely English of a sort coming from within."

"Yes, that's true. It's probably not sped up English, either. Increasing the speed of speech tends to raise the pitch, but it is often somewhat distinguishable as English."

"Okay, where does that leave us?"

"Medium, Harry. We need to change the medium of transmission."

"Well, that might go along with the whole 'elemental' theme of the tourney. Air and Fire was the Dragon. I guess that leaves water and earth."

Hermione snapped her eyes up to meet Harry's. "That's it. Both water and dirt tend to distort sound waves. Maybe that'll render this thing understandable."

Harry pondered this for a moment. "I'd have to say that ever since I got this darn thing, I've wanted to either bury it or drown it!"

"Let's start with Earth first, that might explain the goblin connection."

"Yes! To the greenhouses Robin!"

As they got up and left the library, Hermione said. "Why do I have to be Robin? Those tiny shorts just look creepy!"

Harry threw an arm around her waist. "I'm sure you could pull them off though."

"No Harry. Maybe if you'd said 'Catwoman', I could get on board with this thing."

"Hmm." Visions of Hermione in a tight cat suit swam through his consciousness.

Hermione knew all the signs of a Harry Potter vapor lock brain. She grinned to herself as she pulled him through the corridors towards the greenhouses.

"Boys are so easy to mess with!"

* * *

><p>'Earth' proved a red herring, as the partially buried egg continued to screech uncomfortably. The experiment ended when Professor Sprout came around to discover the source of the unholy din, only to find several shattered glass panels from the green house roof and a very homesick batch of juvenile mandrake root. She was somewhat less than polite when she ejected the dirty pair.<p>

"Jeez! I thought Hufflepuffs were supposed to be the nice ones!" Harry agreed with Sprout that the thing was in fact a 'wailing abomination', but was slightly offended at her accusations that they we're behaving in an 'irresponsible and reckless manner.' They were working here!

"Well, we did demolish half of the greenhouse. And did you hear how sad those little mandrakes were?"

"Didn't hear anything after the first five minutes. Really helped dealing with Sprout's shouting."

"We can always ask Neville for the appropriate 'I'm sorry' gift later. Now, back on task."

"Earth was a bust, that only leaves water. Assuming that the morons running this mess know what they're about."

"Yes, we have to dunk it. Where, though?"

She looked over the broad expanse of lawn towards the Black Lake.

"Oh no, that bloody lake looks cold!" Harry just knew he'd be the one to go in with it. That, and the fact it was already half way through December in the Scottish Highlands made the lake an unattractive option.

"Where else? I know the ladies in Gryffindor tower doesn't come equipped with a bath, not that you'd ever be allowed in."

"Yeah yeah, 'stopped at the gates of heaven', as it were."

"Sinners need not apply. And yes, I'm talking about you." She smirked.

"You wound me, you really do. Okay, no bath tubs that we know of. Swimming pools?"

"I've never seen one here. 'Hogwarts, a History' is also mum on the subject."

"Maybe we could conjure a tank, or a large bucket."

"It would have to be pretty big; one of us has to stick our head in with it."

"That would be a good way to get all this dirt out of our hair!" The pair had tried burying the egg and listening to the top of the mound. It left them with nothing but filthy locks and splitting headaches.

Hermione paused for a moment. This was classic Hermione body language for 'I might have something'. Harry watched her intently.

"I've heard rumors of a really big tub in the castle, but only rumors."

"Anything ornate and luxurious must either belong to the Slytherins or Dumbledore."

"No, this one would be open to certain classes of students from all houses."

"Good. I don't fancy using Dumbledore's little Jacuzzi!"

"Yes, I've heard the price of admission to that little attraction is a bit steep." Even Hermione had heard the rumors about several well built seventh year boys being invited into the Headmaster's quarters for 'consultations and career counseling'.

"Ugh, need some brain bleach here! But seriously, what do you mean 'certain' students?"

"I mean Prefects, Harry. School prefects have their own bathroom. The rumors talk of a very large tub available for their use. We need that tub."

Harry liked where this was going. Anything that involved breaking and entering, with the possibility of some co-ed nudity thrown in was just fine in his book.

"Yes, we do. But how? It probably has a password protected door, like the common rooms."

"We just need that password then, don't we?"

"Okay. I could grab one of the prefects and beat it out of him! That Flint from Slytherin looks like a squealer. A few bludgeoning hexes and then I could conjure a cricket bat and work over his knees."

Hermione sighed. Trying to curb his violent tendencies was proving to be a full time job!

"Harry! No! No beating on Flint. Bad Harry! That's an extremely bad idea."

"Well, what would you suggest, Miss 'Give-peace-a-chance'?"

"Think Harry; what prefects out there might possibly owe you a favor?"

"I don't know. Flint maybe, for not beating him into a pulp with a bat."

"No. Think about one who you've helped recently, one who is also in this tournament?"

"Okay, I get it. I guess I can ask Cedric. If he tries to pull that whole 'I don't cheat!' thing, I might have to hit him with a cricket bat, though."

"Yes, ask Cedric. And please refrain from hitting _anyone_ with a cricket bat!"

"Yes dear."

* * *

><p>The next day, Professor McGonagall cornered Harry after Transfiguration.<p>

"Mister Potter, remain behind for a moment please."

Harry shared a look with Hermione that basically said, 'wait up for me, and if you hear screaming, come in with wand blazing.' They found they could share a great deal with just brief looks.

Hermione left and Harry approached the Scotswoman.

"Yes Professor?"

"What's this I hear about you and Miss Granger wrecking Greenhouse number three?"

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, sorry about that. It's my fault. We were just trying to figure out that egg and caused a little collateral damage. Won't happen again."

McGonagall sighed. "See that you don't, Mister Potter. Why didn't you go to your faculty advisor for help?"

"No offence to Professor Moody, ma'am, but the guy is difficult to be around for any period of time. That eye makes me dizzy, and he is just really weird!"

McGonagall was not amused. "Mister Potter! Alastor Moody is a highly decorated auror! He has been places and seen things that would curl anyone's toes!"

"Be that as it may, I believe Miss Granger and I are on the verge of a breakthrough concerning the egg." Harry realized he could probably ask McGonagall for help getting a tank of water, but he didn't really trust his head of house much these days. He also really wanted to see Hermione either nude or in a swimsuit. Either would be great, really.

"Hmm. Hopefully this 'breakthrough' won't involve any further damage to school property. And just so you know, the Ministry had to re-do their budget to cover the expense of one deceased Hungarian Horntail."

"Glad to see the bean-counters on top of it, ma'am."

"Mister Potter. This is no laughing matter! Several departments had to take cuts to make up for the shortfall."

Harry sighed. "Let me guess, probably the DMLE and anything having to do with Muggles, right?"

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Ma'am, if there's one thing I've learned this year, it's that you can count on Pureblood Wizards to act in defiance of logic and common sense every time."

McGonagall gave him a gimlet eye. "What do you mean?"

"Well, the accountants inform the managers of the shortfall, and what to the bosses say? 'Cuts? We can't cut the free food and other perks for the Wizengamot members! Nor can we reduce the Minister's honor guard! What about the expenses of the Triwizard Tournament? Nope, can't look bad to the dirty foreigners! Why don't we cut the budget of the aurors who keep us all safe? And what about the pittance we spend in dealing with the sixty million non-wizards who live in Great Britain! Yeah, cut that. Who cares about a population that outnumbers us a hundred to one?' Now, does any of that sound reasonable to you?"

Professor McGonagall looked a bit chagrined. "You may have a point, Mister Potter. But these are the officials who run our world, and they deserve respect."

"Ma'am, they can have my respect when they prove themselves to be more mature than a lot of spoiled children. So far, I'm not impressed by their progress."

McGonagall saw she wasn't gong to win that argument anytime soon.

"Well, on to other topics. I am to inform you of the Yule Ball to be held this year."

"Thanks, I guess. But why me?"

"Because, Mister Potter, it is traditional for Champions to open the Ball with a dance; typically a waltz."

"Ah. Does this include 'Unwilling Competitors', as well?"

"Yes, Mister Potter, it does."

"I see. And attendance is mandatory, I suppose?"

"Naturally."

"Well, I suppose I must be about finding my date for this occasion. Good day, Professor."

The dour Scotswoman nodded as he turned and left the classroom.

* * *

><p>"Well, there was no screaming or the sound of spellfire. Am I to assume everything went well?" Hermione was waiting in the corridor, full of questions as always.<p>

"Yes Hermione, Professor McGonagall apparently didn't feel the need to eviscerate me today."

"I wasn't worried about McGonagall being the aggressor, Harry."

Harry turned to face his best friend, a hand placed dramatically on his chest.

"Miss Granger! I'll have you know I'm not a barbarian! You must think me an ogre or somesuch!"

"You, a barbarian? Sounds like an insult to Vandals and Visigoths everywhere!"

"Ordinarily I would be terribly offended by that remark. Luckily for you, you're too darn cute to make it stick." The kiss on the cheek following the statement managed to temporarily disarm Hermione.

After a brief blush, she asked. "So what did the Professor want?"

"Well, after a short harangue about how we wrecked the greenhouse, with a brief discourse on how dragons and anti-tank weapons don't mix; she brought up another hidden task associated with the Triwizard."

"Oh? What would that be?"

Harry looked aggrieved. "I'm not sure I should tell you. It's fraught with danger and may serve to give you nightmares!"

Hermione steeled herself. "Harry, you can tell me. I have your back all the way on this."

"That's good, because it involves you as well."

"Me?"

"Yes. You. It's perilous, very public, and we have to do it together."

"Gryffindors go forward Harry. What is it?"

Harry got down on one knee and took her hand.

"Hermione Granger; will you do me the unparalleled honor of attending the Yule Ball with me?" He kissed her hand and gave her his best beseeching look.

Hermione just looked at him for a moment before speaking.

"Two things. First, you're a prat." She smacked his arm. "If you scare me like that again, you'll learn what real danger is."

She pulled him to his feet. "Second, yes. I'd love to go to the ball with you."

She then gave him a big hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Harry hugged her back and resisted giving her a heart-stopping snog. They were getting there, but just weren't there yet.

"If I could ask you for a favor, though?"

"Hmm?" She was muffled a bit from his robes.

"You might have to teach me how to dance, if you could?"

She looked up at him and smiled.

"So that's the danger to which you were referring? Harry Potter's big clunking feet?"

He grinned back. "Told you it was fraught with peril."

She sighed. "The risks I run for you."

He laughed. "My hero!"


	11. Witches Rights

A/N: I do not own Harry Potter. So far this is the thirteenth time I've had to make that claim. Rules are rules, however, because those are the rules according to the rules. If you have any questions; please direct them to Big Brother. He is watching, after all…

A/N 2: Thanks to a slightly nitpicky reviewer ;) I have changed 'Alistair Moody' back to his proper form as Alastor Moody. Thanks for the pick up! Now, on with the show…

One Wizard too Many

Ch 11

Witch's Rights

Hermione sat in her usual place in the library, ostensibly studying an Arithmancy text. She was in reality contemplating the events that had transpired since Harry had asked her to be his date to the Yule Ball. Since Harry was currently absent; sitting through a Divination class; Hermione thought this a good time to review things in an 'uncorrupted' environment. Not that Harry was necessarily a corrupting influence exactly, but his mere presence seemed to do 'things' to her lines of thought. 'Things' that probably had to do with his gorgeous green eyes, or his messy hair that she so wanted to run her hands through. Or maybe had a lot to do with his somewhat hidden intellect; not nearly as developed as her own, but with a particular genius for application and unorthodox thinking.

_"We do make a formidable team…"_

Those 'things' could also be due to his obvious consideration and regard for her feelings. Where Ron would often belittle her, Harry would at least hear her out, even if he happened to disagree with her ideas. More often he would praise her to the skies for her intellect and wit, and then use her ideas to fight and conquer whatever issue was at hand.

_"Therein lies a huge problem for intelligent women; getting the men in our lives to give us a fair hearing!"_

Hermione didn't consider her self arrogant, but the evidence spoke for itself: she was kind of a smarty pants.

She had seen firsthand how many men could be intimidated by an intelligent woman. Her mother was also considered a very sharp lady as well as an accomplished dentist; yet many of her colleagues and patients could often get their 'backs up' over an issue simply because the correct answer was coming from a woman! And this was in modern day Great Britain; known to be the spiritual home of Women's Suffrage and Equality!

Hermione's problems with sexism in the Wizarding World had already proven to be a hundred times worse, and she hadn't even left school.

_"Almost to be expected from a society rooted in the Late Victorian Era!"_

And here is where a huge difference between her Harry and every other wizard she'd ever met became obvious. Harry respected her for her intellectual gifts. Oh sure, he often competed playfully to bring out the best in her, but never to defeat or humiliate her.

She considered the other boys in Gryffindor.

Ron had demeaned her on almost a daily basis since they'd met. She'd only tolerated the ginger prat because he was friends with Harry. With that friendship now scuppered by Ron's idiocy, she could now express her considerable disdain towards him.

The others were less anger inducing, but represented equally poor candidates for companionship. The twins were far too immature, Seamus was kind of an ass (but not to Ron's standard!), Dean seemed a womanizer in the making, Lee seemed ok, but was involved with the quiddich chasers (possibly all three), McLaggan was destined to be the recipient of a castration hex if he didn't cease and desist with the leers and comments, and the others were either too young or fairly unknown to her. The only boy in her house that came anywhere near her Harry was shy-guy Neville.

Boys in the other two houses were just as unacceptable. Slytherin House didn't even merit her consideration.

_"Where have all the good wizards gone? And where are all the gods?"_

She thought she should stop there, lest she be stuck humming that song from _Footloose _all afternoon. Besides, her hero had asked her to the Yule Ball!

That thought was good for a blush and a repressed _'squee!'_.

While her thoughts were centered on all things Potter, she failed to notice that the Durmstrang Champion had taken a seat at a nearby table. She also failed to notice the five quiddich fan girls who had taken up station at another table nearby. She also missed their obvious disappointment when Mister Krum got up and approached her table.

It took three tries by the Bulgarian seeker to get her attention when he began addressing her.

"Excuse me, miss. May I haf a vord?"

Hermione looked up at the dour young man.

"Good afternoon Mister Krum. What can I do for you?"

"I vas vondering if you had an escort to the Yule Ball?"

Hermione was more than a bit surprised by his advance.

"Sir, do you even know who I am?"

It was Viktor's turn to look surprised.

"You are Her-minny Granger."

"Well, it's actually pronounced 'Her-mi-o–ne', but it's a bit of an odd name. More importantly; why are you asking me?"

Viktor's surprised look stayed in place.

"Because I haf been vatching you. You are unlike all the other girls here. You do not care that I am famous."

_"Ah, I see." _Viktor Krum had a problem that Harry often encountered as well: being famous can sometimes suck.

And for the record, she felt a little dirty at the thought that Viktor had been 'vatching' her.

"I'm sorry, Mister Krum. I already have a date to the Ball. Thank you for asking though."

Viktor appeared most put out.

"Who iz this vizard? I will show you who iz the better man!"

Hermione was shocked for a moment.

_"Do all wizards think they have to pretend to have the biggest wand?"_

"I think I can see the answer to that for myself, thanks."

"You do not understand! I vish to take you to the Ball. I vill accept no alternative!"

Hermione sighed.

"Mister Krum! I thank you for your apparent interest, but I am spoken for. Threatening my date is not going to get me to change my mind." Firm, but polite was her motto when dealing with morons. Except Ron. He usually received the benefit of an embarrassing hex.

"I demand you tell me who iz your escort."

Just then, the worst possible event for the peace and tranquility of the library, Hogwarts, and Wizarding Europe as a whole came to pass: Harry entered the room.

Hermione saw Harry enter the library and glance around the room for a moment before laying his eyes on their little tableaux. His expression told a story in itself.

He first had a big smile at seeing her.

His smile faded a bit when he saw she wasn't alone.

His smile disappeared altogether when he saw Krum was hunched over her.

His face froze in a mask, but his eyes held a dangerous glint when he noticed Krum seemed to be glaring at her threateningly.

But it was the discomfort in her eyes that added a considerable amount of rage to his, mixed with just the slightest bit of crazy as he approached the scene.

Incidentally, it was storied that the eyes of Godric Gryffindor tended to display a similar mixture of wrath and insanity just before he would go into battle. It was often the last thing many Norsemen and Sassenachs saw before they were bloodily dispatched to whatever afterlife they could lay claim to.

In her heart, Hermione knew that this meeting would fall under the classification of 'Not Good'.

Harry walked up to Hermione and greeted her with a kiss on the cheek.

Hermione blushed.

Viktor Krum goggled.

The fan girls sighed.

Neville Longbottom, who had witnessed part of the scene from across the room, began to hustle the younger students away from that area of the library. He was going to step in, as friendship with the couple had begun to help him find his 'inner Gryffindor', but he saw Harry had things well in hand.

"Hi Hermione! How's the Arithmancy paper coming?" He pretended to ignore the foreign wizard, much to that wizard's chagrin.

Before she could reply, Viktor shoved Harry.

"You are her escort? A little boy?" Viktor was somewhat dismissive; and seemed to be channeling Fleur Delacoeur in the insult department.

Harry grinned a little. He did enjoy a bit of a scuffle when one was to be had.

"Why yes Viktor. Me. Does that seem to be a problem for you?"

Krum was a little perplexed. Usually the smaller boy should have been afraid of the 'Mighty Viktor'.

"Yes. I am claiming the right to take Her-minny to the Ball. I vill duel you if necessary."

Harry just eyed Viktor for a moment.

"Really? I was under the impression that the best way to get a date is to ask nicely."

Viktor drew his wand.

"I claim my right as a superior vizard. I vill take what I vish."

Harry had now officially had enough.

"Listen. I don't know how things work wherever you're from. Frankly I don't care. All I know is that you _will_ back away and leave us alone. Hermione is a wonderful girl, so I can't really blame you for trying. But what she isn't is a trophy to be claimed. Not by you, not by me, not by anyone."

The magic was now rolling off of Harry in waves, causing Hermione and the fan-girls to be utterly entranced. His slightly glowing green eyes and self confident posture were pretty hot too.

Hermione, for all her militancy, was a pacifist at heart. But she was still all girl, and enjoyed the idea of her Harry fighting for her just a little.

Viktor was less impressed.

"You do not scare me, boy! If you vant a duel, name your time and place!"

Harry would have been just fine with creatively maiming the arrogant ponce, but he had to try just one more time to get the git to leave unharmed. He did promise Hermione, after all.

"Viktor, I implore you: walk away before we have to find someone to carry you."

Viktor Krum laughed, and shoved Harry again.

Harry laughed with him as he grabbed Viktor's wrists, pinning them in place against his shoulders.

"Duel, Viktor? Oh, we needn't be so formal. Right here and right now works for me."

Harry slipped his arms inside Viktor's and grabbed him by the back of the neck. The head butt that followed managed to cause Viktor to bend at the waist slightly. Viktor's hands were gripping Harry's shoulders, and effectively out of the fight temporarily due to the smaller boy's body position. Harry used Viktor's momentary inattention to drive the Bulgarian's savaged nose into his upraised knee. He then shoved Krum backwards and on to the floor.

Deep in Harry's mind, where contemplative thoughts are kept, he thought about the situation. A few home truths stood out.

"_First; wizards are pants at hand to hand. Too much wand use makes 'em soft. Second; growing up how I did has made me much tougher than they will __ever__ be. Third; quick reflexes and a lower center of gravity trump greater height and weight nearly every time. And fourth; magicals never learn!"_

"Harry!" Hermione was stunned with the speed and viciousness of the attack. And maybe a little turned on too.

Viktor lie on his back, half sitting, as he pressed one hand to his face to stop the bleeding. The other hand was reaching for his wand next to him, as he had dropped it when Harry's forehead had connected with his nose.

"Expelliarmus." Harry shot from the hip and disarmed the recently re-armed Viktor. He eyed the larger boy coldly.

"Get up."

Viktor rose to his feet, his face a mask of fury.

"Ve duel, da?"

"Nyet Viktor, we fight. Dueling is for pansies."

Viktor charged. Harry managed to dodge and punch Viktor in the stomach as he went by. The larger boy staggered for a moment, before grabbing Harry by the arm and trying to hit him in the side of the head. Most of the Bulgarian's blows glanced off of Harry's upraised shoulder, but a few hit him in the ear. Harry shook off the stars for a moment, and then hit Viktor hard in his exposed ribs. Viktor staggered back again, but then fired off a surprise right cross that bloodied Harry's nose. Harry could only grin.

"My tubby cousin hits harder than you!"

Harry then threw a swinging left hook at Viktor's upraised hands, clearing the road for a right cross of his own straight at his opponent's mouth. Viktor's head snapped back, and Harry threw another left, knocking the boy's hands away again, before snapping off a right jab to his gory face.

"_Benefits of growing up with a violent criminal-in-the-making who happens to like boxing."_

Viktor had, by this time, backed up against the fan girls table. The formerly giggly girls were all stunned into immobility at witnessing Viktor Krum and Harry Potter trying to take each others heads off.

Harry grinned an evil grin and tackled Krum onto the table top. The girls skittered their chairs backwards in alarm. Harry took a position above him, pinning him down by the neck, and began to rain down punches at Viktor's battered face.

"Don't you bother my Hermione again! Hear me?"

Viktor could only try and shield his face as Harry remorselessly attempted to turn his visage into ground beef.

Somewhere in his rage, Harry heard a faint voice and felt a soft hand on his shoulder.

"Harry?"

Hermione had snapped out of her trance and come over to him.

Harry calmed a bit at her voice and touch, and looked over at her.

"Harry. Stop please." She gently pulled him off of a now non-belligerent Krum.

As the emotion bled away, Harry sagged and hugged the calming girl.

Krum could only sit up and sniff a bit. He had been bested in Muggle dueling and he knew it. He hated to lose, but the girl had practically saved him by pulling the maniac off.

Just then, Madam Pince rushed into the library accompanied by Madam Pomfrey, McGonagall, and Dumbledore. She had witnessed the beginning stages of the fight, and sensibly had no wish to come between two seriously angry wizards. So instead, she sought reinforcements.

"Mister Potter! What is the meaning of this?" Professor Dumbledore was most displeased.

_"Oh sure, blame me right away!"_

Harry turned, keeping his arm around Hermione's shoulders.

"Nothing too exiting, Professor. Just some Champions business. We've managed to sort it out though."

The four faculty members took in the scene in disbelief. A bloody Viktor Krum, Harry Potter with a sprung nose, a very pale Hermione Granger, and five other girls who looked completely gob smacked.

"Champion's Business you say?" Dumbledore looked askance at Harry.

"Yes, champion's business. And it's been sorted, so no worries."

"Harry, for some reason I always seem to find a reason to worry when it comes to you." Dumbledore turned to Viktor. "Mister Krum, what do you have to say on the subject?"

"Nothing, Headmaster Dumbledore. Our business has been concluded."

Dumbledore looked at the bloodied boy for a moment, then turned to Hermione.

"Miss Granger. Do you wish to add anything?"

She put on her best innocent look. "No Professor."

Dumbledore looked oddly satisfied.

"Well, I trust that since your 'business' seems to be complete, I see no need to pry further. I also am confident that whatever 'business' was transacted between the two of you will not need to be 'rehashed', correct?"

"Yes Professor." The three of them answered in unison.

Dumbledore looked at them all for a moment in his twinkly fashion.

"Well then. Minerva, Madam Pomfrey, Madam Pince; shall we be away?"

McGonagall looked primed for an epic rant, but the Headmaster's dismissal effectively stifled her argument. Madam Pomfrey just mumbled something about 'rambunctious boys'. Madam Pince was just happy to see her fief returned to its usual quiescent state. The faculty then returned to their previous duties.

Viktor sniffled into a sleeve and regarded the younger couple. Harry and Hermione were hugging and whispering to each other in a manner known well to lovers the world over.

_"Look at them! I was a fool to come between them, and I have learned a fool's lesson. I must apologize."_

Viktor approached them with hands raised slightly.

"Mister Potter. I must apologize for my arrogance. I find I am not the superior vizard. You may claim Her-minny for your own."

Harry just grinned slightly. The anger had left his eyes and been replaced by a genial glint.

"Mister Krum. I accept your apology. But I wish to impress upon you that I can not 'claim' Hermione as such, and would be a fool to try."

"Vhat do you mean?"

Harry smiled.

"I'm pretty good at this magic stuff, but Hermione is a thousand times smarter than me. Would you want to anger a brilliant and powerful witch by trying to force your will on her?"

Viktor paled a bit at the implications of that question.

Harry continued. "Add in the fact that my Hermione is very strong willed and independent; you can see that _she_ allows _me_ to believe we're equals in this relationship."

He grinned hugely at Hermione, who smiled back shyly at the praise.

"I see. You have given me much to think about." Graveled Viktor.

The two wizards shook hands, and Viktor left peaceably.

Harry watched him leave for a moment, and then turned to Hermione.

"So. How _is_ your Arithmancy paper coming?"

Hermione just looked at him for a moment, and then chuckled.

"Only you, Harry. Let me fix that for you."

She took out her wand and began healing Harry's bruised face.

"You know, a few more incidents like this, and I could claim internship hours for a Healers Degree."

"Hmm… You as my own personal nursemaid. I like it."

"That would be equivalent to a doctor, Harry."

"Just as long as we can get you some sort of skimpy outfit."

She smacked him on the arm, but grinned.

"Comments like that might require you to seek the services of a real doctor."

Harry feigned hurt.

"But what about your Hippocratic Oath?"

"I'll ask for an exemption when it comes to you."

"Oh, the pain. I should make you kiss it away."

"One day, I might have to take you up on that offer." She grinned evilly at him.

Harry could only blush. She got him again.

He found that he didn't mind a bit.

A/N: Jeez! Vicky Krum is almost as bad as Hagrid with the spell check!


	12. Broadcasting Ones Intentions

A/N: And so again I must abase myself. I do not own The Harry Potter franchise, and of its characters, or any of the plot points. This includes both the good and bad plot twists and whatever holes the more observant readers may find. Here's a tiny plot quibble I've found: If werewolves can be injured by silver, and wizarding small change (sickles; the equivalent of the old shillings) are supposedly made of silver; does that mean werewolves can be hurt by reaching for small change? If so, why would wizards detest them so? They obviously would be great tippers in restaurants!

A/N 2: Just the teeniest bit of smut in here. Just warning ya.

One Wizard Too Many

Ch 12

Broadcasting Ones Intentions

Harry wandered the corridors aimlessly, mentally chanting a mantra he hoped would help him become a better person. Or at least a slightly less homicidal one.

"_Killing is wrong. Killing is wrong. Killing is wrong. Must repeat it until I believe it." _

Harry's mind was fixated on that single thought, hoping it would permeate his occasionally dense grey matter. He was also hoping that the thought would subsequently pop into his consciousness at an appropriate moment and save the life of a witch or wizard who was evidently begging for a violent demise.

The reason for this attempt at self re-education had a great deal to do with a certain staff reporter with the Daily Prophet; namely one Rita Skeeter.

Ordinarily, Harry couldn't care less about tabloid journalists and the tales they told: he'd been slandered repeatedly by segments of the Wizarding world over the past three and a half years, and learned to tune out their foolishness. Almost as bad was when he was lionized by those very same masses.

_"At least people stay away from me if they fear me! Being feared is much better than being loved; much less annoying!"_

What was more difficult to ignore, or to combat, was a disturbing new trend in Wizarding journalism: Ms. Skeeter had taken to targeting Hermione in her daily column.

He had no problems with the implications that Ms. Granger was his girlfriend, even if they were a bit premature. He would attempt to make that part of the story correct by the time the Yule Ball came around anyway.

Rather, it was the insinuations that Hermione was employing potions to stimulate his interest that galled him. That, and the mentions of a developing 'love triangle' between the two of them and Viktor Krum at her instigation.

Harry took this article very poorly.

The combined efforts of Hermione, Neville, Dean, Seamus, and professor McGonagall were just enough to keep Harry from flooing down to the newspaper's offices and destroying every thing and every one he would encounter. His vows that 'the next edition will be printed with their blood' only served to stiffen the Gryffindor resistance. Dozens of lives were saved by their actions that morning.

What had finally calmed Harry's anger levels from 'ravening lunatic' to merely 'extremely pissed off mage' was Hermione's whispered assurances that Ms. Skeeter would suffer at her hands, and soon. He could only hug her and offer to hold Rita Skeeter down while Hermione cut some things off with a rusty knife.

"_The female of the species is far deadlier than the male." _

Harry kind of looked forward to what the intelligent and beautiful witch had in store for the doomed Ms. Skeeter. A symphony of pain and embarrassment was being composed.

Harry was distracted from his musings by the sound of feminine voices tinged with scorn. He looked around and saw no one addressing him directly, indicating he wasn't the cause of someone's ire. At least not yet. He noticed in passing his location near the Ravenclaw tower. As he wandered toward the location of the spat, he figured he'd see some Ravenclaw girls having a go. He was not incorrect in his assessment.

"Stupid Loony Lovegood! Why are you so weird?" A tall girl in blue and bronze trim seemed to be rudely addressing a smaller blonde girl from her house.

'Yeah, what's wrong with you? Are you retarded or something?" Another 'Claw, this one he identified as Cho Chang, was also haranguing the obviously frightened blonde.

A third Ravenclaw; shorter and with red hair said nothing. She instead gave the blonde a solid shove and knocked the books out of her hands. The girl identified as 'Loony' could only cower.

Harry, as a connoisseur of violence, usually enjoyed seeing others have a go at the mayhem game. In this case though, the obvious imbalance in strength and psychological dominance disturbed him. The little blonde was likely to remain passive and allow the three bullies to get away with their intimidation, and probably not for the first time.

This he could not allow to pass.

" Wow. You guys look like the villains in a bad after-school special!" Harry leaned against a pillar and regarded his fingernails as he addressed the girls. The complete picture of nonchalance was Harry. "Love the dialogue, too. Really scary."

"Potter, what are you doing here?" A momentarily flustered Cho asked.

"Just watching you guys practice your lines for some poorly written PSA, I guess. Will this be performed during dinner?" The student body had developed a taste for dinner theatre after Snape performed his rousing version of Macbeth a few weeks prior. What had begun as a diversion had spawned a rather entertaining side effect!

"Uh, no. Not exactly." Cho was beginning to become embarrassed, if her reddening face was any indication. The other two bullies looked a bit alarmed.

"Really? Are you sure? I thought your intimidation techniques were very cartoonish. It seemed just like something a school would throw together for an anti-bullying morality play."

"Well…"

"It's okay, you can tell me. I promise I'll act surprised when you guys perform it."

"Err… It's like this, you see…" Cho really didn't want to explain what was going on. The other two looked ready to run away.

'Loony' appeared faintly amused, now that her tears had stopped.

"I know, you guys are still practicing, and it may seem a little unnatural yet, but let me help you guys with this." Harry was cheerful in his assistance.

Cho was now officially perplexed.

"You see, I have a fair bit of experience with intimidating people in real life." Harry continued. "A lot of it is in the body language."

He pushed himself away from the pillar and stalked up to the slightly taller Cho.

"You see, you have to really get up in someone's personal space; makes 'em really uncomfortable." He stood nose to nose with the 'Claw.

"Then, you have to get the eyes right. Make 'em think your glare is the last thing they'll ever see in this life." His green eyes hardened and glowed faintly in (ostensibly) simulated anger.

Cho gulped. Harry was very good at this.

"Next, you don't need to yell, since you're only inches away from your prey. You just pin them with your gaze and tell them in no uncertain terms that crossing you will result in Filch having to scrub their guts off the ceiling."

Cho's eyes were locked on what she would later liken to 'green death'. In the back of her well developed Ravenclaw mind, she wondered if Malfoy and the other Slytherins were mentally deficient to toy with Potter. The boy seemed born to end the lives of the bigoted and stupid.

Harry grinned slightly, but held the pretty girls eyes with his own.

"Now, Cho. You wouldn't think about trying to pick on anyone for real, would you?"

She could only shake her head emphatically.

Harry smiled and stepped back.

"Great! Wouldn't think you'd stoop so low as to become some cowardly bully. I'll be off now, but if you want anymore pointers, just ask of the Fat Lady at Gryffindor tower. She's my theatrical agent, you know."

The three bullies could just goggle at his change in demeanor for a moment, before hurrying off to attend to apparently important business elsewhere.

Harry shook his head and smiled to himself.

"_For being the 'House of the Wise', sometimes those 'Claws could act quite the fools!"_

The little blonde girl stifled a snort and bent over to collect her things.

"Here, let me help you with that." Harry went to assist the girl.

In a quiet, airy voice, she replied.

"I must thank you, Mister Potter. No one has ever stood up for me before."

"Oh, it was nothing. Just an acting lesson is all." He grinned.

"Well, I must say, the nargles were very impressed with your performance."

Harry was a bit confused. _"The what?"_

Too polite to voice that aloud, he replied. "Ah, glad they enjoyed it."

"The Blibbering humdingers also liked it, but would've preferred better lighting for the scene."

Harry shrugged. "Guess I'll have to take that up with the stage hands before opening night."

"_When in crazy town, act crazy too I guess."_

The girl smiled. "My name is Luna, by the way. Luna Lovegood."

Harry bowed from the waist. "A pleasure, Miss Lovegood. Glad I could assist Ravenclaw House with some tips in 'the method'."

"Yes, I'm sure it'll prove to be a most 'enlightening' lesson."

Harry glanced at his watch. "Are you able to manage from here, Miss Lovegood? I find myself pressed for time at the moment." He was currently running late for lunch.

She smiled. "Oh yes, I shan't keep you. Good day Mister Potter, and beware of any errant veela you may encounter this afternoon."

Harry grinned slightly, perplexed again. "Err… Thanks, I guess. Good day to you as well."

As Luna skipped off towards her common room, Harry couldn't help wonder what the hell just happened.

* * *

><p>Harry entered the Great hall at a brisk pace, determined to get at least a little food before his next class. To his delight, he spied Hermione sitting behind a large opened book, idly snacking on some grapes.<p>

"_Ah, my little bookworm Cleopatra."_

Salacious thoughts of feeding her grapes as she lounged in some slinky Egyptian silk number danced through his head for a moment. It was a fantasy he swore _would_ come true at some point, even if he had to drag her to Egypt to do it!

He kissed her on the cheek as he sat down next to her. She smiled brightly at the interruption.

"Welcome to lunch, slowpoke."

"Yeah yeah, I was busy having a very strange encounter and couldn't tear myself away."

"Strange encounter? How many people ended up in the hospital ward?"

He chuckled. "Wasn't that kind of encounter, for once. Saw Cho and the gang giving some girl a hard time. Quick glare and growl, and the bullies folded."

She cocked an eyebrow. "Ever the hero, eh Harry?"

"As long as I'm your hero, you bet."

"Always, Harry. My own personal troll-vanquisher." She grinned.

Hermione continued. "Anyway, apparently you weren't the only on to have a 'strange encounter' today. Our ginger idiot over there had an interesting morning as well."

Harry cut his eyes to a moping Ron, who was sadly shoving food down his gaping maw with the same speed, but without the same élan as he usually displayed.

At Harry's questioning look, Hermione continued.

"It would seem our impetuous former-friend tried to ask Fleur Delacoeur to the Ball."

"Really?" Harry was stunned. He really didn't think Ron had the balls for it.

"Yup, the poor idiot stumbled up to the girl and shouted a series of words, if arranged and interpreted a certain way, could possibly be construed as an invitation to the Yule Ball."

Harry was trying not to laugh, he really was.

"What happened then?"

"Fleur didn't reply verbally, but her sneer spoke volumes."

Harry shook his head. "Poor Ron. Didn't seem to affect his appetite though."

"Nothing short of a killing curse delivered at close range would affect _his_ appetite."

He chuckled.

"I agree, but let's talk about something much nicer and prettier than ginger prats and stuck up veela. How was your morning?"

Hermione grinned, and the pair moved on to more pleasant topics.

* * *

><p>The cheerful pair had quickly finished lunch and was returning to the Gryffindor common room when Harry registered his second strange encounter of the day just outside the Great Hall.<p>

"Arry! May I 'ave a word with vous pour une moment?"

'Arry' looked over at the person addressing him in such an unusual manner and groaned internally.

"'_Errant Veela', huh? Why did I have to wake up in weirdo-land this morning?"_

Fleur Delacoeur was approaching, with her best 'encouraging' look on her face.

Hermione tightened her grip on Harry's hand in alarm.

Harry just grinned at Hermione, before turning back to the approaching Frenchwoman.

"Yes, Miss Delacoeur. What can I do for you?"

"I was wondering if vous avez une escort pour le Yule Ball?"

"Oui, Miss Delacoeur. I find myself blessed with a date for the occasion." He favored Hermione with a warm look.

"Vous etes certain? Would you not rather go avec moi?" Fleur tried a pout on for size.

Harry gave Fleur an odd look for a moment.

"No, I must decline. I already have a date. Thank you anyway, though."

Hermione squeezed his hand in grateful thanks. Her relief that her Harry could turn down the stunning French witch knew no bounds.

"Perhaps vous weesh to… Reconsider?"

Harry felt an odd tug on his subconscious. He looked around at the others present and noticed it. Fleur was turning up the allure, and most of the other males in the area showing its effects.

"_Ah, sneaky bitch is trying to 'change my mind', is she?"_

"I'm afraid not, Miss Delacoeur. I'm quite happy with my date, thank you very much."

"_Let's see how far she goes with this."_

Harry continued. "Perhaps, if you find yourself without an escort, Hermione and I could use our good offices to find you one."

Fleur tried to pout harder, (or at least more emphatically). Harry felt a stronger tug.

He really, really hated mind control. Fleur's attempt to sway him with some veela version of the _Imperius_ was starting to piss him off. His anger helped hold off that pesky allure.

"Oh 'Arry, I find myself drawn to you very strongly. Do you not feel this as well?"

"No, Miss Delacoeur, I'm afraid I don't. Not towards you at any rate."

The squeeze and grin he gave Hermione nearly caused the British witch's face to split in half with her large smile.

The tug strengthened.

Ron, who was across the anteroom from them and snacking on a pilfered treacle tart, began to chew, drool, and to rub himself up against a column in equal measures.

Harry was split between laughing hysterically and becoming ill at the sight.

Neville was merely looking a bit glassy eyed, but Malfoy began to fiddle with the crotch of his trousers in a suspicious manner.

Harry was really trying not to laugh.

Crabbe and Goyle both could only stare stupidly, but seeing Pansy Parkinson begin to massage her chest in what she thought was a subtle manner caused Harry to allow a snort to escape.

"_Pansy, hiding in the closet much? Now I know how she puts up with ol' Draco so easily!"_

Fleur gave Harry a smoldering look.

"I must have vous, Harry Potter. I will not be denied. I will make it worth your time."

The tug increased yet again, but the strain of maintaining the allure at such powerful levels was beginning to tell in the French witch's expression.

Ron had stopped eating altogether and began humping the stone column in abandon. Neville noticed this and looked faintly disgusted, the veela spell on him broken. Draco was trying to slip his hand down his pants for a bit of a 'root around', and Pansy tweaked her nipples through her blouse and was moaning audibly.

Crabbe and Goyle just looked a tad sleepy.

Harry did not want to speculate on the reasons for _that_!

Hermione tried to ignore the insanity going on around them (hoping not to become ill at witnessing their bizarre antics) and spoke.

"Mademoiselle Delacoeur, avez vous une 'mal de digestif'?"

"_Hermione asked her if she was sick to her stomach? Fleur certainly looks ill!" _Harry agreed silently.

"Non, whatever do you mean?" Fleur replied, attempting to appear nonchalant.

Harry sighed, this silliness has gone on long enough.

"Miss Delacoeur, I'll be frank. I'm going with Hermione Granger, the stunning witch at my side. Please stop using your allure to try and get your way."

"Vous do not weesh to go weeth moi?"

"For the last time, no I don't."

Fleur sighed and turned off her allure.

"Quel dommage. I would 'ave proved a most 'accomodating' escort pour vous."

"Yeah, that's great." To Hermione, he asked. "Ready to go m'dear?"

Hermione smiled.

"Absolutely. It's beginning to smell of stale bouillabaisse in here."

As the pair departed, Hermione couldn't help but give the Veela a smirk and wink.

"_Eat THAT you French slag! No one gets MY Harry! Vouz sale cochon!" _

Fleur appeared momentarily enraged at the look, but clamped her mask of indifference in place. She strode away with her nose in the air.

Against a column, a totally spent Ron Weasley awoke from the trance.

"What in blue bloody hell just happened? And why do I suddenly want a muggle cigarette?"


	13. Breaking Down Barriers

A/N: Nope, I still don't own the Harry Potter franchise. Sad, ain't it?

One Wizard Too Many

Ch 13

Breaking Down Barriers

"Hey, you're getting good at this!"

"Well, I have a great teacher. That, and my natural grace and poise are beginning to tell."

Hermione snorted at the almost-complement.

"It seems, Mister Potter, that you may not be as big a dunderhead as I had anticipated." She said in her best imitation of Snape's mournful tones.

He could only laugh as he twirled Hermione around the empty classroom to the sounds of a waltz provided by a wizarding wireless. Their dancing lessons had gone quite well and the two teens were enjoying themselves immensely. Hermione had even foregone the cushioning charms on her feet as Harry had become more proficient with his own footwork, and the pair had even graduated to dips and twirls.

The fact they held each other tightly throughout the lessons had helped their enjoyment too.

The song ended and the pair held each other tightly for a moment, enjoying the contact. Harry leaned in and gave her a kiss on the forehead as they parted finally.

"Thank you so much. I would be so lost without you."

Hermione blushed.

"Oh, nonsense. You could have managed this on your own."

With a grin, he replied. "I don't just mean the dancing, although it's been brilliant too."

He took both of her hands in his.

"Hermione, I want to ask you something."

Harry suddenly looked very nervous, which sent Hermione's mind into a whirl.

_"Ohmygod! He's going to ask me out! Yes! Yes! Yes!"_

Harry's mouth opened, and Hermione went into a prolonged mental 'squee'.

For a moment, everything was perfect as they gazed into each other's eyes.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, surprising the heretofore happy couple. They jumped, but kept holding hands as a most unwelcome voice washed over them.

"Oi! Harry, been looking all over for you!" Came the dulcet tones of Ron Weasley.

Harry and Hermione both sighed in disgust.

"What do you want Ron?" Asked Harry tiredly.

"Do you have a date yet? You know, to the Ball?"

Harry just looked down at his hands, still clasped with Hermione's. The significance of this _should_ have been obvious. To anyone with a scintilla of intelligence, that is.

"Yes Ron, I have a date. I take it you do not, however."

"Nah. Can't decide which bird to take. Too many to choose from and all." Ron's eyes fell on Hermione. "What about you Hermione? Anyone ask you yet?"

"Yes Ron, I have a date as well. Was there something you wanted?"

Ron seemed surprised at this.

"You have a date? Who is it?"

Hermione kind of wanted to hurt the red-headed idiot, but wanted to set a good example for Harry. Instead of pain, she just gave a significant look at her hands clasped with Harry's.

"No really, who would ask you?"

Harry's voice took on a dangerous tone.

"What do you mean by that exactly? 'Who would ask you?'"

Ron just breezed on. "Well I mean, bit plain innit she? Somebody must be desperate!"

Harry couldn't believe it. He looked over at Hermione, who seemed on the verge of tears, and he felt the anger building within him.

_"This ginger idiot is somehow even more stupid than I gave him credit for. I find that completely amazing, considering I had him placed somewhere between a granite countertop and a lobotomized flobberworm! I kind of want to kill him, but I think I might feel bad about hurting someone so terminally stupid!"_

Before Hermione could retort, Harry spoke.

"Ron, I'll have you know I'm going to the Ball with Hermione. What's more, I asked her a mere three minutes after I found out about the thing. Hermione is my first choice, my only choice, and if she for some reason had to cancel, there's no way in hell I would even think about going with someone else. And for the record, 'plain' is just about the last thing I think of when I look upon Hermione." He finished his speech with a warm smile for the girl.

She grinned back at Harry, warmed by his words and his quick defusing of her fears.

Ron just looked at the pair quizzically.

"If you say so, I guess. Hey! Let's go flying or something, you're not doing anything."

"No Ron, go away." Harry kept it short. The more he spoke to the prat, the greater likelihood that said prat would end up dead.

"Aw, come on! All you do is study with Hermione anymore!" The red-head whinged.

"Ron. Leave. Now."

"But…" Ron was persistent. Dim, but persistent.

Harry began to shake in barely repressed anger. He really wanted to try and not hurt anyone, but they seemed dead set on begging for it!

Hermione saw the conflict in her would-be boyfriend and knew the only thing keeping Ron alive was Harry's promise to her.

_"Harry is so sweet! Trying to keep his promises like that."_

She decided to take control of the situation. She had noticed Ron positioned exactly between her and the door. Unfortunately, the door had closed during the course of their conversation. Well, unfortunately for Ron, at least. Hermione was unconcerned.

She drew her wand quickly and fired a strong banishing hex at the ginger moron.

The spell struck true and Ron found himself propelled into the closed door at a high rate of speed. The door cracked, but held, leaving Ron a stunned heap on the floor.

"Drat! Thought that'd be enough to get rid of him." Hermione hated being wrong.

Harry just goggled as Hermione levitated the red head in front of the door and quickly released the levitation and loosed another banishing hex.

The spell hit Ron in the back and threw him heavily into the splintering door face first. With a grunt, he went down again in a heap.

"Uh Hermione, what are you doing?" Harry asked.

"Perfecting a new type of battering ram."

She levitated Ron's insensate form in front of her target, and once again banished him into the beleaguered wooden door. This time, the barrier gave way, and Ron was propelled down the hallway in a cloud of wooden splinters.

Hermione looked over to a very surprised Harry and shrugged.

"Looks like the third time is the charm."

"Hermione, that was brilliant and all, but I thought we weren't supposed to do things like that."

"No Harry, _you_ aren't supposed to do things like that. I never said anything about me."

Harry laughed. "Oh that is so not fair! Nice form with the banishing hex, by the way."

She grinned. "Thanks, I figured Ron's dense skull must be good for something. Turns out its pretty good at breaking down doors."

"I'm sure he'll be overjoyed to hear that when he comes to."

She grinned at his quip, and then changed to a meaningful gaze.

"Harry, I know it must be difficult holding back when someone is goading you."

She gave him a light peck on the lips.

"Thank you for trying to keep your promise to me, it means a lot that you care about my feelings." She smiled. "Now, I believe there was something you wanted to ask me?"

Harry tried to collect his thoughts; that kiss scrambled them something fierce!

"Uh, yeah. Hermione, would you…"

"Mister Potter! Miss Granger! What is going on here?"

Harry sagged in defeat. Professor McGonagall had come calling.

_"Oh, come on!"_

Hermione answered. "Yes Professor, is there something we can do for you?"

"Yes, you can start by explaining why Mister Weasley is lying in the middle of the corridor twenty five feet away in a pile of wood chips?"

Harry looked at Hermione and mouthed 'twenty five feet!' with a look of surprise. He was evidently impressed with her distance in the impromptu 'Weasley Tossing' competition.

"Well, Professor, it's like this…"

"Yeah, sorry Professor. It's champions business though. Highly classified. Very important to the tournament. You know the drill." Harry commandeered the explanation and handed Professor McGonagall a business card with the pertinent tournament rule inscribed on it.

A few weeks before, Remus Lupin had gotten him a few dozen business cards printed up with the 'get out of trouble free' rule prominently displayed. He and Sirius loved the entire idea, of course, and wished they had had similar opportunities for causing mayhem. Harry then remembered a certain book he'd read about a serial killer in corporate guise and asked if the card was just plain white or 'bone'. The marauders missed the joke, but Hermione had read her fair share of Bret Easton Ellis' work. She felt it important to remind him that she didn't care for Phil Collins, and if he chased her with a chainsaw, she would be very unamused.

Professor McGonagall was also markedly not amused by the brusque explanation.

"Mister Potter! I demand…"

Harry crossed his arms and shook his head emphatically.

"I'm sorry Professor, Champion's Business. Mister Weasley sought to interfere with tournament preparation, and was consequently crushed like the bug he is. End of story."

Minerva McGonagall's face was a study in repressed rage.

"This is not over, Mister Potter!"

"Yes Professor, it is. Unless Weasley decides to wake up and interfere further."

McGonagall just huffed angrily and stalked out of the room, doubtlessly to assist an unconscious Ron to the hospital wing.

Hermione waited a moment before turning on him with no little concern.

"Harry! Why did you do that? I could have taken the blame! And why do you disrespect Professor McGonagall like that?"

"Hermione." He rubbed her arms to try and calm the agitated girl. "I'm sorry I stole your thunder, but I took the blame because it won't stick to me. Why should you have to sit through a detention just because you tried to teach Weasley something? Besides, I already have a history of violence, so why not?"

"Okay, I see your point. And I agree, your reputation as a psycho precedes you. But why do you have to give the Professor such a hard time?"

Harry sighed tiredly.

"Hermione, that question is much more complicated."

He gestured towards a nearby couch and the pair sat down.

Harry threw an arm around her shoulders as he continued.

"Wouldn't you think that as my Head of House, McGonagall should have been more involved in this whole tournament thing?"

"Well yes, but I'm sure she must have her reasons, right?"

Hermione _so_ wanted to trust her favorite teacher. It was the last vestige of a trust born from a bullied bookworm who always could look to authority for safety.

"Hermione, McGonagall hasn't said more than three sentences to me since this whole nightmare began. Sprout trains Cedric every day. Karkaroff and Viktor are constantly planning. Maxine and Delacoeur review strategy and research solutions all the time. What faculty aids me?"

Hermione sighed. "Okay Harry, I can see your point. By the way, the Head of Beauxbatons is Madam _Maxime_, not 'Maxine'. You make her sound like a waitress in some Alabama truck stop diner!"

Harry snickered at his slip. "Yeah, you have me there. Madam Maxime doesn't seem the type to be toting coffee and creamed chipped beef sandwiches! But seriously, you see this too, right? McGonagall has been downright nasty when it comes to me. It's like she's channeling Snape where I'm concerned!"

"Yes Harry, Professor McGonagall has been somewhat less than forthcoming when it comes to helping you. So no, you're not crazy for thinking that. That's not to say you're not crazy though." She grinned impishly.

Harry feigned shock.

"A double negative, Miss Granger? I am appalled."

"Two negatives equal a positive, prat." She stuck her tongue out at him.

"So you're saying I _am_ crazy, right?"

"Ah duh. And I thought Ron was thick!"

"Oh, _that_ was hurtful!"

The slight called for a good tickling, which he was only too happy to provide.

Down the hall, an approaching Neville could only smirk at the escaping sounds of mirth. If anyone needed some amusement and joy it was those two! Nevertheless, Neville had a message to deliver.

He had just reached the threshold of the destroyed door, and wondered briefly just what had happened to shatter the solid oak portal. He saw the couple had become quiet and were gazing at each other intensely at close range. Harry looked like he was about to say something important.

Just then, Neville stumbled over a baulk of wood torn from the ruined door. The noise caused the happy couple to jump in surprise. It also served to ruin their moment.

Harry spoke. "Yes Neville, what is it?" The annoyance was hidden, but still discernable.

"I'm so sorry to bother you guys! It's just that Cedric Diggory urgently requested a meeting with you. If I'd known you were busy…"

"It's okay Neville, you didn't know." Harry looked sadly at a disappointed Hermione for a moment, before rising and offering her a hand up.

To Neville, he continued. "Did Diggory say where he'd be?"

"He's in the Great Hall for study hours. I really am sorry you guys."

"No worries mate, Cedric better have something important to tell me though!" Harry softened his comment with a grin, showing his true ire lay with the Hufflepuff.

Neville nodded once to both of them, and left quickly.

"Well, my dear. Shall we see what Mister Diggory wants?" Harry curled his arm in hers and led them out of the classroom.

"Indeed, lets. There'd better be a password to the Prefect's Bath somewhere in this little sit-down, though! I think we could use a little soak after today's exertions."

Harry tried to conceal his lecherous grin.

"I couldn't agree more."

A/N: Okay, okay, I'm getting to the Ball. Just like to develop the plot every now and then! Smacking Ron around a little is fun too…


	14. Lions and Lambs

A/N: As I have stated before every chapter, I do not own Harry Potter or any characters, events, or locations therein. If by some oversight you the reader actually do believe I own any of it, kindly cease and desist, then go and have your head examined for a lack of common sense.

One Wizard Too Many

Ch 14

Lions and Lambs

Harry and Hermione held hands as they walked briskly through the corridors towards the Great Hall, their quick steps echoing off the stone walls. The soft footfalls were the only sounds audible, as the pair was currently enjoying a companionable silence. Their thoughts were quite active though, and dwelling on similar themes: the recent past and the near future.

Hermione appeared thoughtful and a bit subdued, a common appearance for the young girl. The reason for the passive demeanor had nothing to do with an Arithmancy or Runes assignment, which was typically the case, but everything to do with the moment she had just shared with Harry.

_"I'm positive he was about to kiss me! Darn it! Why did Neville have to interfere?"_

Their shared gaze, in her opinion, could have had only one outcome: frenzied snogging. Her irritation that they weren't currently osculating with abandon was only slightly mitigated by the possibility of obtaining the means for a long and comfortable soak.

_"I __need__ that tub; and I __will__ have that hot bath. A nice hot bath with Harry. Maybe that stupid egg too if we can remember!"_

The subdued look morphed slowly into a dreamy smile on Hermione's face. Hot baths and Harry were two of her favorite things, after all. Combining them was sure to be a treat.

Harry's visage betrayed little, as he put on his 'mask' of indifference he usually kept up for the benefit of the majority of the student body. He'd found that a bland front paired with a reputation for violence tended to keep most irritants away. He'd tried to look insane, but the rolling eyes made him dizzy and the alka-seltzer he'd chewed to maintain the froth left an awful taste in his mouth.

_"One day, when I've finished cutting little pieces off Bellatrix LeStrange, I'll have to ask her how she does it." _His thoughts having taken a momentary aside to the very topic of his contrived countenance.

_"Anyway, sure wished Neville could have held off for a few minutes or something!" _

Harry was also not best pleased by the interruption, but as it was Neville who had broken their moment, he couldn't be too mad.

_"If it had been Malfoy, old Lucius'd have trouble finding enough Draco to bury!"_

Harry fantasized briefly about disintegrating the blond ponce, but a squeeze of Hermione's hand reminded him that much more satisfying daydreams were to be had; ones starring the thin and athletic brunette by his side.

Harry's mask melted into a dreamy smile of his own.

* * *

><p>Soon the duo found themselves nearing the Great Hall, and Hermione shuddered slightly as they passed a certain column in the anteroom.<p>

"_Ugh, that poor piece of masonry! Still, better that than some innocent student is subject to frottage from Ron Weasley!" _

Suddenly, she had a brain wave. She stopped and gazed at the column for a moment. Harry paused and looked on quizzically.

Hermione looked over at him and grinned, before pulling her wand and casting a complicated spell. The stonework in the column rippled for a moment, before forming into a life size human figure. She paused a moment, thinking hard, before waving her wand a few more times to complete the face of the statue-like object.

Harry was astounded. "Hermione, that's brilliant! But why her?"

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe this'll stop him from trying to hump the architecture next time Fleur wants to show off."

She fired off another spell to give the statue voice and some movement.

Harry could only laugh.

"Oh, Ron's going to love that! Seeing his mum before and after every meal! Priceless!"

The stone Molly Weasley opened her granite eyes and spotted the pair.

"Oh hello dearies! Off to study are we?"

"Yes Missus Weasley." The pair replied without snickering overmuch.

Molly glanced around a bit and noticed Ron wasn't there. Naturally, she inquired as to the reasons for his absence.

"I think he said something about a long nap before dinner." Hermione replied. She neglected to mention it most likely would be taking place in the hospital wing. No need to worry the statue mum, after all.

Stone Molly huffed in exasperation. "That boy! If he keeps up his lackadaisical ways, I'm going to have to talk to Mister Filch about an internship program for him!"

Molly huffed again, and then carefully schooled her features into their usual pleasant demeanor.

"Well, don't let me keep you. Happy studying!"

Harry and Hermione bid good bye to the animated architectural feature then entered the Hall to find Cedric.

"Hermione, have I told you how brilliant you are? Creating a statue of Ron's mum out of the very column he molested is pure genius!"

"It's not a statue, Harry. It's a load-bearing caryatid, as she's still attached to the ceiling and floor. But thank you, and yes, you've mentioned my intelligence from time to time."

Harry grinned. "Well, I'm going to say it again: you are easily the smartest and most beautiful person I know."

Hermione grinned shyly and blushed. "Oh you. Let's find Cedric and get this over with."

* * *

><p>The pair located the Hufflepuff champion busily studying at the table of Badgers, surrounded by several housemates. Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott were in attendance, as was Justin Finch-Fletchley for the fourth years, all talking quietly about their Charms essay. Other knots of black and yellow clad students seemed to be working closely together as well.<p>

"_This whole teamwork thing they have going on must be both extremely helpful and incredibly annoying!"_

Harry could concede the obvious benefits of group study, but knew he wouldn't be able to handle what he invariably saw as 'interference'. Gryffindors were known to be fiercely independent, and Harry in particular was not known to 'play well with others'.

As Harry and Hermione approached the table, several students looked up and registered mild alarm. A tall and angry looking boy arose from Cedric's group and approached them.

"What do you want, cheater?" Asked the familiar looking boy in his annoyingly familiar voice.

Harry sighed tiredly.

"Flannigan, I presume?"

"Yeah, what of it?"

Harry looked over to Cedric. "Hey Ced! Call off your dog, will ya?"

Cedric looked up and nodded to Flannigan.

"It's okay Ted, I asked him to come."

Harry gave Ted Flannigan a smirk and shouldered on past the glowering boy to speak with Cedric privately.

Hermione had witnessed the scene, just as she had witnessed Harry's last interaction with Mister Flannigan, and she was left with a few questions.

"Ted Flannigan? Hi, I'm Hermione Granger, Gryffindor Fourth year. Are you by any chance a Pureblood?"

Flannigan looked a bit surprised at the question, but nodded in the affirmative.

Hermione continued. "Do you by any chance recall your last meeting with Harry?"

The tall boy looked confused for a moment. "Er, it's kinda vague. I just know I don't like him a lot. Why?"

"You don't remember anything from a run in you had with him under similar circumstances about a week before the First Task?"

"No, not really. What happened?"

"Mister Flannigan, would you say you may have been obliviated?"

Flannigan was beginning to get irritated. "Well I wouldn't know that if I was obliviated, would I?"

"Well, I suppose that answers that. Flannigan, a few weeks ago you had words with Harry and tried to shove him. He broke your nose and kicked your stones in like a Brazilian winger at the World Cup. You collapsed and vomited all over yourself in a somewhat pathetic and disgraceful manner. Forgotten moral of an obliviated story: maybe you should leave Harry alone from now on."

Flannigan looked appalled. He turned to a watching Susan Bones and asked. "Is that true?"

Susan looked a bit frightened as her un-altered memories of the day returned. Quietly, she replied. "Yes Ted, that sounds like how it happened."

Ted looked angry. He glared at his housemates and demanded. "None of you guys could tell me about that?"

Hannah replied. "But you had yourself obliviated because you said it hurt too much."

Justin added. "Yeah, what kind of friends would we be if we let you feel that kind of anguish?"

"Oh, yeah. Thanks for not telling me, I guess." Stated a slightly chagrined Ted.

Hermione just closed her eyes and sighed. "Maybe the kind of friends who might let someone learn from their mistakes! Sometimes I think your ethos of nurturing and caring here in Hufflepuff does more harm than good! And Justin! You're a muggle-born just like me. How in the world would purposefully forgetting a painful error possibly be helpful? Have you completely lost your common sense?"

Justin favored her with an indignant glare. "We help our own, Granger. If Ted wants to forget being savaged by your boyfriend for no reason, we're going to back him up on it!"

Hermione glared back. "And you don't think Ted here might have a valuable lesson to learn from getting his bits kicked into the back of his mouth?"

Susan answered. "Oh, we all already know Harry Potter is a dangerous psychopath, Granger." She and Hannah triggered their Malfoy-furnished Tournament buttons.

"Yeah, he murdered that poor dragon with some beastly muggle weapon!" Said an unknown older girl.

"I heard he also beat up a bunch of Slytherin First years!" Interjected a younger boy.

Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes tightly for a moment.

"_Arseholes! I'm surrounded by arseholes!" _The voice in her head sounded a little like Lord Helmet.

"Alright, you guys seem to have your minds made up about Harry. You think him dangerous and imbalanced. I disagree, but fine, for the sake of argument, let's assume you're correct. Why then, in Merlin's name do you lot seem to be going out of your way to piss him off?"

The Hufflepuffs were stunned into silence.

"If Harry really is a dangerous psycho, wouldn't you say your behaviors are more than a little unsafe?"

Hermione gestured to Ted Flannigan. "You insult him, and then unsuccessfully try to physically dominate him, having your arse handed to you in the process. And now you almost tried to do it again!"

She waved her hand at Susan and Hannah. "You two also insult him. Yeah, it's incredibly childish and moronic, but it's still an insult."

Her gaze fell upon Justin. "And you, who really should know better, have the gall to tell me that allowing a 'friend' to have his mind toyed with is something to be proud of! Allowing him to hide from his own failings and from the fact a Fourth Year embarrassed him in a physical confrontation!"

Hermione's eyes swept over the group. "And the rest of you seriously need to check your facts! That dragon was trying to kill Harry! What would any of you have done? You can't obliviate death away and hide from the pain of being roasted and eaten. And as for those 'Slytherin Firsties'? It was actually Malfoy and his goons, and they shot first. Sure, they fought about as well as first years, but they still went first."

She looked over and saw Harry and Cedric approaching, their meeting having ended. Ended amicably as well, as the two seemed to be sharing some sort of private joke.

She looked back at the quiet but angering Hufflepuffs.

"You know, you should go to Professor Sprout and have your mascot changed. Badgers are supposed to be brave and incredibly fierce. You lot look more like sheep to me."

She took Harry by the arm when he came within reach and kissed him on the cheek.

"Get me out of here, love. The air seems to be choked with stupidity!"

He grinned and led her out of the Hall.

* * *

><p>Outside the Hall and past 'Stone Molly', (who greeted them with a wave and an admonition to always don clean underwear should they ever have the misfortune to be transported to Saint Mungo's), Harry managed to calm the angry Miss Granger with soothing words and a shoulder massage.<p>

"What happened back there? It really looked like you were about to hex the lot of them!"

"Nothing important, just satisfying my curiosity and strengthening my cynicism."

"Ah, well, a healthy dose of cynicism can be a good thing. One ends up surprised and appalled much less easily."

"Good then, don't be surprised and appalled if we aren't invited to tea with the 'Puffs any time soon."

Harry grinned. "That's too bad, I guess. Suppose I'll have to schedule swimming lessons in the Prefect's Bath with a gorgeous Gryff of my acquaintance instead."

Hermione smiled. "Oh, I'll be sure to tell Ginny to clear her calendar then."

"That was mean, Hermione. Very mean. Expect a bill from my Psychologist for the nightmares."

"Oh, don't wet your knickers! I'm sure a hug from 'Stone Molly' will make it all better."

"Okay, now that's the Psychologist's bill and an invoice for some brain bleach you'll owe me."

She laughed and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Anyway Harry, so I am to assume you were successful in obtaining the password from Cedric?"

"Yup, no cricket bats required. He told me I should 'have a soak and think things over'. Didn't even get pissy over the 'cheating' thing."

She grinned. "Perhaps you are proving a wonderfully 'corrupting' influence on the young man?"

"Heh, more like a 'large stick extracting from the arse' influence."

"Yes, quite. Too bad large sticks residing in arses seem to be a Hufflepuff distinction."

Harry could see Hermione begin to become slightly annoyed from recalling the earlier confrontation. Fortunately, he knew exactly how to diffuse this particular situation.

He was rubbing her shoulders and working out the kinks, so he didn't have to lean in very far to whisper huskily in her ear. "How about we move this discussion slash massage to the Prefect's Bath?"

She stiffened slightly and grabbed his hand.

"Yes, how about we do that very thing?"

The pair giggled as they ran off toward the secret baths.

A/N: I do apologize for the seemingly slow pace. The Ball is coming!


	15. Watching the Submarine Races

A/N: Standard disclaimer. I don't own this. It would seem everyone but the lawyers knows that.

One Wizard Too Many

Ch 15

Watching the Submarine Races at Inspiration Point

The happy duo ran through the corridors of Hogwarts towards their destination on the Fourth Floor, giggling all the while. They shouted a quick greeting to Neville, who was returning from a Charms tutorial. The usually solemn boy laughed and waved to Harry and Hermione's rapidly retreating forms, happy to see his earlier interruption hadn't angered them.

The couple sped down the hallway and skidded around a corner, only to pick up their pace in the straight. Mister Filch and Missus Norris emerged from an intersecting hall in front of them, and the scraggly looking janitor began yelling.

"Oi! No running in the halls! I'll 'ave your knuckles broken for this!"

Harry was ready with a 'Champion's Card' to flick at the disgruntled man, while Hermione hurtled a hissing Missus Norris. The pair barely broke stride.

The irate shouting eased as they rounded another turn. No Filch detentions for them tonight!

Down the hall and up some stairs they ran their energy seemingly limitless. They called out to Professor Dumbledore as they passed; only hearing him respond pleasantly and sigh.

"Oh, to be so young again!"

They caught a shifting staircase just as it had stopped moving, and took the steps two at a time, just incase it happened to change it's mind.

Across the landing and through a portal, they continued. A 'sorry' shouted over their shoulders and a shiver was their reaction when the Bloody Baron seemed to drift into their path. It usually wasn't nice to run through ghosts, but they were in a hurry!

Finally, they reached their destination. A non-descript door near a statue of a wizard attempting to woo a mermaid.

Harry spoke the password 'Pine Fresh' to the painting next to the door, a witch enjoying a footbath. Said witch nodded, and the door opened.

_"Success!"_

Finally, they could have that bath.

They entered quickly and shut the door.

"Holy cricket!" Hermione exclaimed. The sentiment covered both of them.

They both poked around the ornate chamber for a few minutes, reveling in the obvious luxury and tasteful décor. The room was dominated by a very large tub, nearly a small swimming pool in actuality. It seemed to bottom out at around five feet in depth and had a very nice tile design depicting mermaids and sea life. The mermaid theme was reinforced by the large animate window framing a be-finned lass sunning herself on a rock.

_"Seems very much like the sculpture in Copenhagen Harbor commemorating Hans Christian Andersen's __Little Mermaid__." _ Hermione was impressed.

The mermaid in the window smiled and waved a shy hand at the witch. Hermione, naturally, waved back.

Further exploration of the room revealed two changing rooms, taps by the pool that dispensed several types of bubble bath suds, and an ever-replenishing pitcher of water on a side board with cups.

Harry chuckled. At an odd look from Hermione, he explained.

"For three years I always wondered why Percy and the other prefects looked so smug and superior. Figured it had something to do with that silly badge or something. Now, I think I can see why!"

"Yeah, it would definitely bolster one's sense of self worth to have regular access to this. What do you think our chances are to be voted prefects next year?"

Harry snorted. "You're a shoe in for it. Me, they'd have to be smoking large quantities of muggle crack. And that was before this whole tournament nonsense!"

Hermione approached him by the edge of the pool and took his hands in hers, giving him a very significant look.

"Guess I'll just have to sneak you in then, won't I?"

Harry met her steamy gaze and blushed very strongly. Her smoldering look seemed to paralyze him. She let go of his hands and began to caress his chest. She looked down at her wandering hands for a moment, then back up to his green eyes, biting her lip slightly as she stepped slightly closer to him.

It was all Harry could do to gulp and remind himself to breathe.

Hermione's eyes flicked to her left for a moment, then back to him, pinning him in place with the strong emotions swirling within.

Harry brought his hands up and caressed the outside of her arms. He leaned his head down slowly to approach her pouting lips with his own.

Suddenly, those gorgeous lips of hers went from a sexy pout to a smirk.

_"Whaa?" _Harry's thoughts were a bit vapor locked at that moment.

A solid shove caused him further confusion, as well as changing his viewpoint from Hermione's beautiful face to a quick blur of the wall and ceiling before being replaced by a great deal of water.

_"I am so going to get her for that!"_

He broke the surface to the sounds of raucous laughter. Hermione was bent double and clutching her stomach, her mirth having taken on the sounds of sniggering and mewing.

"Hermione, that was very mean."

He tried to glare at her to make the laughing stop, but his heart wasn't in it. It was kind of funny, after all.

Hermione composed herself and faced Harry.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist. You should have seen your face!"

"Hermione, Mister Potter is not amused."

She smiled. "Oh relax; I'll make it up to you."

She caught his eye with a bold look and shed her school robes, revealing a white oxford shirt with Gryffindor tie and grey skirt underneath. Knee high stockings and leather 'Mary Jane's' completed her outfit.

Harry gulped and tried not to stare. The vision before him was just about the sexiest thing he'd ever seen. And things had only just begun.

Hermione pulled one shoe off, followed by its mate. She then began to roll down one stocking slowly, before pulling it off her dainty foot.

_"My God. She's doing a striptease!"_ Harry was in awe.

She smiled at his gob smacked expression before attending to the other stocking in a similar manner as the first.

Harry didn't consider himself a 'foot man' by any means, but for hers, he'd make an exception. It helped that her legs were fantastic too.

Donning a sexy grin, she un-tied her school tie, then began to unbutton her white oxford.

"Mmmmh." Harry began to make yummy noises as her lacy white bra appeared.

Hermione reveled in his completely undivided attention. Usually she would be very modest and shy in a situation like this, but Harry in his words and actions seemed to do something to her. His very aura and his calm self confidence fed that 'something'. Something that made her feel bold and brazen and incredibly sexy. She loved Harry deeply, and still would adore him even if she remained a retiring bookworm. This unbridled animal magnetism, though, made things a lot more fun!

Her oxford completely unbuttoned, she slipped one arm out of its sleeve followed by the other. The shirt fell in a pile next to her shoes. She stood up straight and pushed out her chest a little. She knew she didn't have the biggest bust ever, but they were firm and proportionate with the rest of her thin frame, and looked nice constrained by her bra.

Harry clearly thought they were quite marvelous, thank you very much.

Hermione favored him with a warm smile. His adoring looks were heavily colored with lust, but not a hint of uncomfortable leering.

Finally, Harry found his voice.

"Hermione, you are so beautiful!"

Her smile widened at the praise, but she didn't respond. Instead she leaned down a bit to unbutton her grey skirt, exposing her white panties. Somewhat practical, they had an understated sexiness about them. Much like their owner, really.

Harry, while he would really have liked being up on the pool deck to help Hermione remove her uniform, was at least thankful that the shoulder deep water he was in would manage to hide his 'reaction' to her disrobing!

The skirt joined the rest of her clothing in a pile, and she stepped over to the edge of the pool and sat, dangling her legs and feet in the warm water. She looked at Harry for a moment while idly kicking her feet.

"Well, aren't you going to take off anything?"

Harry snickered. "Why? To keep my stuff dry?"

Hermione giggled. "Well, it is a bit late for that. Might make things more comfortable though?"

"Riiight, now you're worried about my comfort!" His smile belied any rancor he may have injected into that sentence.

Hermione just pouted.

"Oh, okay. Just give me a minute here." Harry was, as always, powerless before a Hermione pout.

He pushed himself out of the pool, and shucked off the soaked robe. It landed with a wet 'thwock'. Tie and shirt were next, leaving a sodden undershirt sticking to his well defined chest. Wet trainers and socks were followed by trousers, leaving him in red boxers.

Here he paused to gauge her reaction. His disrobing was much quicker than hers, but she seemed to be enjoying the view all the same.

It was all she could do not to lick her lips at the sight of him.

_"Who knew that such a 'scrawny' boy could be so filled out under those Hogwarts robes?"_

He grinned as he stripped off his undershirt, showing off his musculature as well as an impressive set of scars. He knew he would never have a body builder's physique, but he was lean and strong.

_"Looks like all those summer 'workouts' at Camp Dursley are finally paying off!"_

His scar collection was more troubling though, as many of them had bad memories associated with them. If he had to show them to anyone, though, it would be Hermione. He knew she would understand.

Hermione just gazed lustfully at him as he slipped back into the water. He paddled out to the center and motioned her to follow.

She grinned and slipped into the warm pool, joining him in the middle.

They came together and clasped hands under the water, gazing at each other from close range.

"Hermione, you are so beautiful and so smart. Sometimes I can't believe you are my best friend. What did I do so right?"

"Oh come now, how can you say that? I think you're pretty great too!"

Harry blushed. "You know, I've been dying to ask you something all day. Each time I gather the courage to ask it though, something weird happens to mess it up."

She giggled. "Too true! I thought we were cursed or something."

"Well, I think I know what's wrong. And more importantly, I think I have an answer."

"Oh? What would that be?"

He smiled. "I think I just have to show you."

With that statement, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her. She contentedly melted into his kiss and responded in kind.

After a good few minutes, they both broke for air. Harry looked into her eyes as their foreheads touched.

"Hermione, this may sound cheesy, but will you be my girlfriend?"

She smiled hugely. "Yes and yes!"

"Hmm? Why yes twice?"

She giggled. "Yes that was cheesy and yes I'll be your girlfriend."

He laughed, and then continued kissing her.

Their making out started innocently enough with closed mouth kissing, slowly was moving to open mouth, then tongues. When they needed to stop for air, Harry moved his kisses to her neck and behind her ear, eliciting moans that drove him onward. Their hands stayed restricted to each other's backs, until Harry massaged her scalp during a heavy kissing session. She reacted very positively to the new stimulus, moaning and scratching his back in ecstasy. The full body contact with minimal clothing also drove the pair wild, each more than aware of the other's obvious arousal.

In the back of Harry's mind, he couldn't help but wonder at all the new and delightful sensations going on.

_"I know we're not nearly ready for full on shagging yet, but that's more than okay! We seem to have plenty of territory to explore right here."_

Hermione, for her part, knew Harry would be respectful of her boundaries. Everything about him screamed 'nobility'. But she was pleasantly surprised he kissed so well! And his touch seemed to inflame her like nothing else.

_"They didn't say anything about that in the manuals!" _

Not that she was disappointed or anything.

Eventually, the new couple eased their frenzied kissing and just held each other in the warm water. They weren't exactly spent, but they were enjoying the warm glow of shared intimacy.

Hermione leaned back into his embrace and just started to close their eyes when a strangely familiar voice rang out.

"Oh, about time you two finished!"

Harry's eyes shot open.

"Ah, Moaning Myrtle. Been a long time, hasn't it?"

The annoying ghost pouted.

"Yes, it has! No one ever comes to visit me anymore!"

Hermione really felt bad for the deceased witch. After all, she knew exactly what it was like to encounter a horrifying beast unexpectedly in the loo.

"Hello Myrtle, how have you been?"

The ghost grimaced. "Bad, thanks for asking. I'm lonely all the time and the other ghosts are jerks! The only fun I've had recently was watching that dishy Hufflepuff prefect take a bath with some weird egg."

Harry sat up in surprise.

"We were supposed to be trying to figure out that stupid egg, weren't we?"

Hermione sighed, but settled back into him.

"Yes, that was out original intent, wasn't it? I don't think I want to move though, too comfortable."

"Well, I don't really want to do work either, but the sooner we figure out that silly clue, the sooner we can come up with a solution and recommence snogging each other stupid!"

"Indeed. For the snogging, Harry."

"Yes, the snogging." Harry began to rise, but stopped suddenly.

"Wait. I have an idea."

He called out for Dobby. A few seconds went by before a loud pop broke the silence.

"Yes Master Harr… Oh my!"

Dobby had popped in and noticed their state of dress to his consternation.

"Dobby, it's okay. Hermione and I have clothes on… Just not too many of them."

Dobby nodded, but kept his large eyes covered.

Harry sighed. "Dobby, do you think you could retrieve that golden egg from my trunk?"

"You means the one Master Harry's Wheasey keeps rubbing on his self and cuddling whens Master Harry isn't there?"

"Yes… Wait, what?"

The self-blinkered elf nodded again. "Yes, Master Harry's Wheasey be often acting strange when Master Harry isn't around."

Hermione looked faintly ill and Harry sighed.

"Okay, one day soon Dobby we're going to have a long talk about whatever 'Wheasey' has been up to. For now though, do you think you could grab the egg and disinfect it before bringing it here?"

"Yes, with bleach please." Added Hermione.

"Right away Master Harry!" The elf popped away and returned within five seconds.

"Thanks Dobby! That was really fast! "

"Yes Dobby, you're a superb elf!" Hermione chimed in as well.

Myrtle just looked on, faintly amused.

"Well, now that you actually have the egg, maybe you should put it in the water. That's what the other boy did." Myrtle's tone indicated she was either scandalized or jealous.

Hermione took the egg from Dobby and shot Myrtle a slightly superior look.

_"Ha! Don't you wish you were me!_

Hermione submerged the egg and popped it open.

She and Harry shared a look before simultaneously dunking their heads into the water.

One Mermish riddle later, both surfaced with wildly different looks on their faces.

Harry looked equal parts confused and worried.

"I really don't like that part about 'what you'll sorely miss'."

Hermione was thoughtful.

"Hmm, let's hear it again."

Another rendition leaves Harry looking even more concerned.

"What I'll sorely miss! I really don't like the sound of that!"

Hermione was busy parsing the possible meanings.

"Well, 'where our voices sound' must mean a submarine environment, which is further emphasized by the 'cannot sing above the ground'. 'One hour' must be the time limit to search, and 'prospect is black' seems to indicate the Black Lake."

Harry wasn't quite so calm.

"Hermione! 'What I'll sorely miss'! There's only one 'thing' I'll ever 'sorely miss'!"

"What is it, Harry?"

He looked her in the eyes, his fear and anger at the tournament evident.

"You. The only thing I'd ever sorely miss is you."

"Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'! They can't take you, I won't let them!"

"You might not have a choice Harry." She said softly.

"Bullshit! Anyone who so much as lays a finger on you is going to Saint Mungo's in a dozen sandwich baggies!"

She enfolded him in an embrace, which he returned in force. His magic was roiling the waters like a miniature typhoon. Myrtle looked a bit frightened and retreated through the nearest wall. Dobby had popped away some time ago to allow his 'underdressed' employer some privacy.

Hermione tried to soothe the upset wizard, cooing in his ear and holding him tightly.

When he calmed somewhat, she spoke.

"You know love, ordinarily I'd be scolding you for your language, but I know your heart is in the right place."

Harry managed a muffled 'thanks', muted due to his nuzzling into her neck.

"It's okay though, we'll get through this together, just like we always do. I have no intentions of leaving you anytime soon, we just got together after all!"

He leaned back from his tight embrace, and then kissed her sweetly.

"I know, I just hate seeing you get put in harm's way."

She grinned. "Welcome to my world. I've felt that way about you since First Year!"

"Heh, kinda sucks on this side of the fence, doesn't it?"

"It's not the most fun in the world; but as long as you come as part of the package, I'll be here."

"You always are."

"And always will be, don't you forget it. But anyway, I think you know what our next step is here."

Harry sighed. "While I could hope you might mean more snogging and an intense tongue wrestling match, I'm going to take the high road and assume you're implying a floo call to Remus and Sirius followed by a trip to the library."

"Well, yes, I was hinting at the latter actually. But since you mention it, the former does seem to have some appeal as well." Her grin seemed positively feral.

Harry's wild grin matched hers measure for measure.

"Oh goody."

A/N: Next up- More strategizing and a Yule Ball

A/N 2: For anyone curious about Ron's interactions with the egg, I recommend 'A Champion's Champion' by Driftwood 1965. I just had to throw it in as an homage to a great story. If you like my story, you'll love his!


	16. The Perils of Demon Firewhiskey

A/N: Nope, still don't own it.

A/N 2: Special thanks to Marius Darkwolf for the shout out. If you haven't checked out any of his work, you are most definitely missing out on some high quality writing. Hope those stitches heal up soon!

One Wizard Too Many

Ch 16

The Perils of Demon Firewhiskey

Harry hated waiting.

The ability to be patient, to accept that some things happened in the fullness of time and according to their own schedules was one the young Mister Potter did not count among his virtues.

This particular period of necessary inactivity was one he was more than happy to endure, however, because he was about to escort Miss Hermione Granger to the Yule Ball.

He waited in the Gryffindor Common Room within view of the girl's dormitory stairs, dressed in his formal dark robes with light blue trim and awaiting his soon to be descending goddess along with the other boys attending the Ball. He stood next to Neville, who was fidgeting in his usual manner. The two shared a companionable silence, as Neville was too nervous to frame a competent conversation, and Harry allowed himself to become lost in his thoughts.

Harry's ponderings of the time in the Prefects Bath would surely warm his heart for all the years left to him. Hermione was so beautiful and so incredibly intelligent that he had difficulty believing she would actually consent to being his girlfriend. No one deserved to be that happy, least of all him.

Less pleasant were his remembrances of the Egg and the task it detailed. Harry regarded it as a threat to all he held dear, to abduct and confine the girl he adored above everything else in the world. He remembered feeling very scared and very angry at the thought of Hermione being held in some watery prison.

His mind whirled away to think of the preparations he and Hermione had made following that wonderful and terrible bath, for as much as he didn't want to compete in this stupid mess of a tournament, he was bound to try. The magic of that goblet would allow nothing less.

* * *

><p><strong>Flashback<strong>

The happy couple left the Prefects Bath hand in hand, giggling and whispering to each other as they strolled down the corridor in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. It was quite later than they had thought and curfew was approaching.

Hermione sighed. "Where does the time go? I thought for sure we'd have at least a little time to research underwater spells tonight!"

Harry grinned. "Time flies when you're having fun, love. Besides, you look quite done in from that warm water."

She yawned, and then grinned sleepily. "Yes, that bath did feel wonderful! Just the thing for these long Scottish winter nights. Of course, getting to snog the pool boy was nice too."

"Pool boy? Is that all I am to you?"

She added a bit of leer to her grin. "Well, let's see. Gorgeous and slightly dim younger male pleasures a sophisticated and erudite older woman in a pool like environment? Yup, that makes you the pool boy."

He sighed. "You make me feel like such a piece of meat. What a shame that I kind of like it."

She giggled. "What, no riposte over the 'dim' comment?"

"Hermione, compared to you, I'm lucky to be considered only slightly dim."

She looked at him lovingly for a moment, and then hugged him. "That's sweet. Thank you."

The pair had reached the portrait of 'The Fat Lady', and gave the appropriate password for entry.

The Common Room was mostly empty at the moment, so the couple had a quick bedtime snog.

As they broke the last sweet kiss, Harry bid her a good night. As Hermione responded in kind, he replied.

"In a bit, love. I'm not tired yet and maybe I can get a hold of Remus tonight."

She looked a bit concerned. "Harry, are you sure that's wise?"

"Nope, it probably isn't. But I know I won't be able to sleep tonight unless I get some headway on the solution for this clue."

"Well, let me come with you then."

Harry patted her hand. "No, that's okay. You're knackered and I'm just going to floo them about what we've discovered. No trouble at all."

Hermione didn't look convinced about the 'no trouble' part.

"You're sure? You're just going to call them from the floo here in the common room? It's a call-only floo. You know that, right?"

"Yup, no worries at all. Just a quick jingle, nothing more."

"With you, Harry, I always worry."

He chuckled. "Oh relax, I'll be like five minutes."

She looked at him dubiously.

He smiled. "Come on, you can trust me."

She just rolled her eyes and huffed as she went up to bed. "Good night Harry. No mischief, you understand?" Her retreating form called from the girl's stairs.

"Yes dear."

* * *

><p>Harry approached the fireplace and re-lit the dying flames with a quick 'incendio'. He then grabbed a handful of powder and threw it into the fire, calling out Remus Lupin's address as he did so. The flames flashed green and he took the very unnatural step of putting his head into the emerald inferno. He was instantly treated to a green tinted view of the werewolf's front parlor.<p>

He tried calling out both Remus' and Sirius' names to the empty parlor, but to no avail. He did notice a number of firewhiskey bottles and empty pizza boxes strewn about the normally immaculate room. A glance at the window near the fireplace showed some sort of odd flashing going on every now and then. He then stilled for a moment and could hear the distant sound of explosions.

"Holy shit, they're being attacked!" Harry said aloud to himself as he scrambled backwards from the fireplace and stood up. He thought for a moment, and then ran toward the boy's dormitory stairs.

He rushed up the stairs and into his room. The other boys stopped their conversation at his abrupt appearance.

"All right there Harry?" Dean called to him. He had been watching Seamus about to land a 'flying back flip elbow' on a recently healed Ron, who was threatening the Irish boy with 'a big can of Devonshire whoop-ass delivered by my completely awesome German Suplex', in what seemed to be a magically assisted homage to professional wrestling. Seamus was currently standing on the foot-board to his bed and directing attention to his groin area through the use of extravagant gestures. Ron was standing in the middle of the circular room and trying to impress the 'crowd' with muscle poses. Dean had been commentating on the action and Neville was trying to read a book on Herbology and ignore the goings on around him.

All in all a typical Wednesday night in Gryffindor Tower.

Harry ignored the ruckus and Dean's question as he quickly snatched up his invisibility cloak and the Marauder's Map. He had work to do, and would not be distracted by the schoolboy interpretation of 'sports entertainment'.

Ron looked over at Harry and seemed about to pose a question of his own. What that question was to remain unasked as it was interrupted by one hundred and forty five pounds of formerly airborne Hibernian.

Seamus couldn't manage the back flip, but the flying elbow seemed to work well enough.

As the Irishman was trying to pin the ginger prat and Dean announcing every dramatic moment, Harry scurried out of the 'arena' and towards the Common Room exit.

He had some uncles to rescue.

* * *

><p>Harry flipped his invisibility cloak over his head and ran hard for the front doors to the castle. He knew the only accessible floo was in Hogsmeade, and he had little time to waste.<p>

He ran down the stairs two and three at a time and sprinted through the straight corridors, skidding in the turns and nearly falling from a wet floor near Myrtle's loo. The adolescent ghost had flooded the toilets again, most likely in reaction to what had happened in the Prefect's Bath. Harry grinned in remembrance; if he was going to date a witch, why wouldn't he choose one that had a corporeal form? And what a corporeal form it was, too.

He shook off the lustful thoughts, since it wouldn't do to be distracted going into a fight.

He rounded the last turn and headed for the large doors. A simple unlocking charm performed on the run was enough to access the entry courtyard and the long road to the gates.

"_Wait, the gates are probably locked. Like, really locked. Shit."_

Harry slowed to a jog as he pondered the latest problem. He had to get over, under, or through those gates to get to Hogsmeade. Which was about two miles away.

Harry then had a brainwave, followed by feelings of stupidity.

"_Hermione had it right! I am dim. Why didn't I think of that before?"_

He drew his wand and cast an 'accio firebolt', then began to run again. A minute later, the speedy broom appeared from the general direction of Gryffindor Tower. He leapt and mounted it on the run, then sped off over the gates and towards Hogsmeade.

A few short minutes later he was zooming down the main street of the quiet village towards the brightly lit Three Broomsticks. He dismounted and hid his broom in an alley behind some dustbins. He then jogged up to the entrance of the busy pub and entered quickly.

The tavern was bustling and full of good cheer as the mostly male patrons swilled their firewhiskeys, butterbeers, and other assorted wizarding beverages. Harry eased along the wall invisibly as he made his way towards the floo, trying to think of a socially acceptable diversion along the way.

He was having a difficult time of it, as he didn't usually do 'socially acceptable' as a rule.

Just as he was about to settle on repeating his previous M.O., which involved a few bludgeoning hexes and a massive bar fight, when he noticed a target of opportunity.

Rita Skeeter was there. Nursing a martini and looking over the crowd in an appraising manner. What she may have been looking for, Harry didn't wish to speculate.

"_Oh happy day! Hope someone has a camera!"_

He quietly summoned her wand, and tossed it away in a corner. He then paused and drew breath. Quickly, he spell chained a clothes banishing charm and an uncontrollable dancing hex on the middle aged witch.

Her shriek brought all conversation in the pub to a halt, to be replaced by laughter and wolf whistles as the not-terribly physically fit woman began dancing wildly to a tune no one could hear.

Her complete and slightly appalling nudity managed to completely divert attention from Harry quickly flooing from the horror show.

As it later turned out, several people had cameras in their possession that evening.

* * *

><p>Harry landed on the parquet in his usual fashion: painfully and embarrassingly. He quickly dusted himself off and adjusted the invisibility cloak. The roar of battle was still coming from somewhere outside, and some terrifying green flashes could be seen from the window.<p>

"_The killing curse! It has to be! No other spell has that same bowel loosening green tinge!"_

He ran for the back door and peered from a rear window. More flashes and a loud boom reverberated through the wall.

He wrenched open the door and ran toward the explosions, which seemed to be emanating from behind a line of trees. Sprinting into the copse, he pushed through the dead winter foliage and crouched, looking for a target.

He found two targets, actually. Targets for his ire, though, and not his wand.

Sirius and Remus were perfectly fine. They were also apparently having a bit of fun with a large quantity of muggle munitions.

Sirius was manning a large fifty caliber machine gun mounted on a tripod and wildly shooting green tracers into the air. His insane cackling was inaudible over the din of war, but visible all the same.

"_Green! I thought it was the fucking Avada Kedavra! Damn them!"_

The explosions were the product of Remus Lupin, who was a bit closer to Harry and was currently employing a World War Two-era mortar to fire off a mix of parachute flares and high explosive.

Down range the charred remains of several muggle lorries could be seen, one still burning merrily as its petrol supply flamed and crackled away.

Harry stood there grinding his teeth as he pulled his cloak off, exposing his irritation to the world. He stalked up to Lupin and tapped him on the shoulder.

The werewolf turned unsteadily towards him.

Harry cocked back a fist and punched the man right in the nose. Remus fell backwards in surprise and regarded the lad with wide eyes.

"Harry, what are you doing here?"

Harry just scowled and jerked his head over to his idiotic godfather, who was laughing hysterically as the large bullets he was firing tore up the ground around the lorries.

Remus sighed and shot a stinging hex at Sirius.

"Hey! What was… Harry? Is that you?"

"Yes it's me! I tried to floo you two morons and _somehow_ got the impression you were under attack!"

"Oh." Remus looked contrite. Sirius just grinned.

"Yeah, 'oh'! I thought someone was trying to put my uncles to the killing curse! Instead, after running my arse ragged to find a useable transport floo, I come down here to find a bunch of idiots re-enacting fucking Sword Beach!"

Remus looked at Sirius and muttered. "We forgot to turn off the floo."

"Arrgh!" Harry yelled in frustration, before helping the werewolf up and catching him in a bone-crushing hug.

Sirius came over and patted the lad on the shoulder. "Not that we're not glad to see you, but why are you here?"

Harry released Remus from the hug and answered. "Hermione figured out the clue from that egg, and I wanted to pick your seriously underemployed brains for ideas."

Remus answered. "Well, let's head on up to the house and discuss things over a cuppa."

"Heh! Cup a firewhiskey maybe!" Sirius snorted.

As the trio walked through the copse of bare trees towards the house, Harry asked a question.

"So what in the hell were you guys doing out there?"

Sirius answered. "Well, you see Remus here had all sorts of stuff lying around that you didn't need for the first task. We just thought we'd have a few drinks and 'see if it still worked' and all."

Harry grinned. "Ah, couldn't resist all the pretty explosions and loud bangs, huh?"

"Never could, Harry. I think I might be addicted."

Remus barked in laughter and Harry sniggered.

"Yup, 'my name is Sirius Black, and I'm a boom-a-holic. I've been free from destructive blasts for about three minutes now'."

"You always did get excited at the smell of napalm, particularly in the morning." Remus said.

"Ah, smells like… good times."

Harry rolled his eyes. "All right there Colonel Kilgore. Let me tell you about that damned egg, then let's hear what you think."

"Fire away, kiddo."

The trio schemed for several hours and were quite satisfied with the outcome.

The second task wouldn't know what hit it.

* * *

><p>It was about two thirty in the morning when Remus apparated Harry back to the alley next to the Three Broomsticks.<p>

When they had regained their sense of balance, Remus asked. "Okay, Snuffles and I will get the item from the Black vault and make the other arrangements. The inviting I'm leaving up to you."

Harry nodded. "Got it. I'll send Hedwig out first thing after breakfast. It might take a bit of sweet talking, but I know I can pull this off. It's going to be great!"

"Good, I see you have things well in hand. Congratulations on your new girlfriend, by the way. When we have more time, we'll have to tease you properly about it!"

"Tease me all you want. My love is as a shield to such petty mocking!" Harry grinned.

"I see corniness is a Potter birthright! James used to make pronouncements like that all the time."

Harry gave the werewolf a hug. "Thanks for all your help, it means a lot."

Remus smiled. "To borrow Sirius' motto for a moment, no worries."

He waved and apparated away.

Harry recovered his broom and donned his invisibility cloak, then exited the alley. To his surprise, the Three Broomsticks seemed busier than ever. There was a line leading up to the door, and a man was collecting a 'cover charge' to enter. He diligently ignored the fact the line was composed solely of older men, all of whom seemed eager to enter the establishment.

"_Nope, didn't see nuthin!"_

He remounted his broom and sped off towards Hogwarts and Gryffindor Tower. Sleep would come easily to him after the day he'd had!

* * *

><p><strong>End Flashback<strong>

The days since the beginning of their relationship and discovery of the egg had flown by. Harry had sent the necessary correspondence via Hedwig, and received a positive reply. Likewise, Sirius and Remus had met all their goals, and were currently engaged in the second part of 'The Plan'. Hermione was less than pleased at Harry's visitation of his uncles, but had understood why he had gone.

His diversion involving Rita Skeeter had gone a long way toward easing her ire as well.

In fact, the following day's headline announcing Miss Skeeter's upcoming series of articles exposing the sleazy secrets of exotic dancers 'from an insider's perspective' had first generated a questioning glance from the studious girl.

His explanation had at first produced laughter, followed by an extended snog in a nearby broom closet.

She was sure to inform him that her own vengeance was still pending, though.

Hermione was a bit less happy that Harry was withholding his plans for the task from her, but was mollified a bit when he promised to reveal the surprise very soon.

Just then, Harry looked up towards the top of the stairs. The vision he beheld made it difficult to breathe.

"My God!" Harry said aloud.

Hermione was standing at the top of the stairs. At his exclamation, she donned a huge smile.

Gracefully, she descended the stairs towards a stunned Harry, stopping just before him.

"You look completely amazing!"

"Thank you Harry, you clean up well too."

Harry snapped out of his trance, and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a jewelry box and opened it.

"Picked up a little something for you. Hope you like it."

Her eyes widened at the sight of a diamond necklace on a delicate gold chain. It was very pretty and slightly understated, much like the girl herself.

He took it from the box and placed it around her neck, where it seemed to go perfectly with her light blue dress. She turned and kissed him gently on the lips.

"Thank you, it looks wonderful!"

He gazed at her. "I see something even more wonderful, but you're welcome."

She just blushed and smiled prettily.

"Shall we be off, good sir?" She asked.

"We shall, my lady."

The happy couple departed for the Ball.

A/N: Okay, a middling size chapter here (at least by my standards!) I've gotten a few reviews asking that I pick up the pace a bit, but find that I need two to cover the Ball. Fear not folks, we're getting there


	17. Provocation and Terpsichory

A/N: I do not own HP. Sigh…

One Wizard Too Many

Ch 17

Provocation and Terpsichory

The Yule Ball was probably Harry's favorite 'task' of the Triwizard Tournament. Nothing had to be destroyed, vanquished, sought, or puzzled out to survive the event. No one was presently screaming for his blood.

All he had to do was to dance with his lovely girlfriend.

_"Finally! A task I'm happy to participate in!" _

The Ball went off splendidly, the Great Hall decorated in a 'Winter Wonderland' sort of theme, the ladies radiant in their finery, and the gentlemen gallant in their deportment. The opening waltz was performed with grace and skill by our happy couple, seconded only by Cedric Diggory and his date, Cho Chang. Fleur Delacoeur and her escort, a seemingly drugged Roger Davies, performed adequately in their terpsichorean obligations.

The fact he was unable to tear his gaze away from her bosom detracted from the performance somewhat.

Viktor Krum, though, was struggling not to crush his date's feet with his own oddly pigeon toed extremities. The poor girl, a Beauxbatons student by all appearances, was persevering with the dance.

Harry whispered to Hermione. "Poor Viktor. Looks like he's lost without a broom."

Hermione winced and nodded as Viktor stumbled hard and caught the girl's ankle beneath his size 11 brogan. "You're right. More to the point; poor girl. Hope she cast some cushioning charms on those Jimmy Choos."

"Hmm, hopefully, whatever that is. Aren't you glad you decided to go with me?" Harry twirled his grinning date and gave her a grin back.

"Well, I guess. I am pretty good with a cushioning charm and he IS the famous Viktor Krum after all."

Harry rolled his eyes and smirked. "Maybe so, but do you really think he'd respect your tootsies the way I do? Would he rub them after that long walk from Hagrid's hut? Would he kiss them lovingly when you ever so rudely stuck them in his face on the common room couch? Would he even nibble on your big toe even after you dared him to?"

Hermione blushed a bit, but fired back gamely. "Now that you mention it, probably not. But then again, we have confirmed you have a mild form of foot partialism."

"Well, it helps you have such cute feet I suppose. And I wouldn't say it's been confirmed, just implied."

Hermione smirked. "Ah, sweet avoidance. I'm not saying I mind or anything, particularly since you give the most awesome foot massages ever. One of which I will be expecting when this event is over."

"Naturally, but as gorgeous as your gams are, what do I get for one of my world renowned foot rubs?"

"The pure bliss of being able to touch my beautiful feet?"

"Heh, nice try."

Hermione gave him a smoldering look. "Oh, in that case I believe we can work out an equitable arrangement."

The song ended and Harry froze for a second.

He recovered and grinned at his date. "Curse you, you witch! You got me again!"

Hermione laughed as she led him to their spot at the champions table.

Dinner proved to be a mildly boring affair, or at least it would have been had our couple not had each other to talk to. Fleur was still acting the part of an incredibly conceited princess and haughtily refused to make any sort of small talk, while her date had to be repeatedly reminded to swallow and breathe. Davies was wearing a look best described as 'semi-concussed', and was mostly incapable of intelligent speech. Cedric and Cho were fairly talkative, but neither Harry nor Hermione had much patience for quiddich talk or gossip. Viktor and his date, a French witch named Monique, were not terribly talkative as both had only the most cursory knowledge of English. Hermione had a pleasant conversation 'en Francais' with the girl though, with some translation for Harry so he could follow along and contribute a little.

The staff and Ministry personnel at table were pretty boring in the main. Crouch was absent and had asked Percy to sit in for him. The ginger prig was alternating between bragging about his 'lickspittlery' at the Ministry and loudly complaining about the simulacrum of his mother in the entryway to the Hall.

The fact that the caryatid tried to hug him and wipe a non-existent smut from his face when he approached the column probably didn't help the situation.

Ludo Bagman was braying at some bawdy joke he himself had told to an offended Minerva McGonagall. Apparently it had made quite the rounds at the Cup semi-finals in 1968 and was quite amusing to a largely immature male audience. The stern witch found it somewhat less droll than she found most things, and looked set to engage in some punitive transfiguration. Her surreptitious glances at the Headmaster seemed to be a visible artifact of her assessing the chances of getting away with it. Dumbledore was oblivious to this as he was mostly humming a little ditty to himself and looking all twinkly at the Ball attendees. Moody was also regarding the guests oddly, but employing his magical eye in a dizzying fashion and muttering to himself. When the eye stopped on Snape and Karkaroff, the muttering became a bit harsher and began to include a few curse words. The Russian headmaster just glanced back nervously at the oddly acting ex-auror and rubbed his left forearm strangely. Snape just glared at everyone and tried to rub his own arm in a clandestine manner.

In what seemed to be the 'big people's corner', Hagrid and Madam Maxime gabbled at each other in their largely unintelligible accents. At least they both looked happy enough, talking about God knows what.

Harry turned back to his date and favored her with a big smile. At least _he_ had someone awesome to talk to.

Soon the mandatory dinner and conversation ended and dancing resumed. Harry rose and offered a hand to his escort. Hermione smiled prettily and rose to dance with her date. A few formal dances were scheduled to warm everyone up before the activity became gradually faster and less constrained. Through it all, Harry and Hermione could relax and enjoy the simple pleasures of holding a lover close and moving with the music.

Well, they would have, except for the fact that nearly the whole student body seemed to hate them.

At first, the glares and muttered comments were easily ignored for the childish snits they were. 'Potter Stinks' buttons were displayed, scathing looks were delivered, and the dreaded 'M' word was spoken aloud several times within earshot. All to no avail, however, as the couple merely danced on, uncaring of the evident disdain coming their way. Secretly, the targets of the collective ire were laughing at their tormenters, as Harry and Hermione had both been bullied in the past and were less than impressed at the Hogwartian efforts this evening.

_"Bah! Bunch of pikers! Sorry to think it, but old Dudley could give them all lessons on how to properly get someone's goat!" _

The students of Durmstrang and Beauxbatons were generally not participating in the hate-fest being directed at the couple. Beauxbatons attendees prided themselves on being far more subtle than these silly British, and would never stoop to such ridiculous antics! Durmstrang, on the other hand, was watching the proceedings with baited breath. Their students had been warned about trying to intimidate Harry Potter by an obviously impressed Viktor Krum. The Dark Arts school regarded the application of violence as serious business, and anything they could learn from the extremely talented Potter would be well worth knowing. Most hoped for an object demonstration this very evening, for educational purposes of course.

After all, opportunities for learning must never be missed! And apparently the young Potter had an impressive technique.

Harry and Hermione cared not for this, preferring to remain oblivious to the petty put downs. They were determined to have a good time. Fortunately, sneers and mild insults were as far as the abuse went, so they were largely left in peace.

In addition to their grim resolve to enjoy themselves, Harry knew any trouble could put the timetable for his 'master plan' in jeopardy. Sadly, he was unable to come up with a better name than 'master plan' to hang on his carefully arranged plot, as anything he could think of was either too obvious or just plain stupid sounding.

He'd have to contact the 'mutts' later, as they would most like have a list of clever and mildly scatological code names available for plan titles.

The Ball rolled on, with the headlining act taking over for the classical quartet as the dancing became more frenetic. 'The Weird Sisters' was an odd name for a band, particularly as it seemed to contain no female members. The wizarding crowd seemed not to mind, however, as they seemed to be quite well known amongst magicals.

* * *

><p>Across the room, Draco Malfoy was looking upon the happy couple with utter loathing. While quite happy that his charmed buttons had sold briskly and netted him a tidy profit, he was a bit distressed to see that Scarhead and Mudblood paid no attention to his witty insult.<p>

_"Maybe version two should have something about 'Muggle-Born Whores' or something. Yeah, get his bitch of a mum and his crup of a girlfriend in one go. Bloody slags." _

He took a swig of his 'Ogden's Best Firewhiskey' in satisfaction. Sometimes he loved being as awesome as he was.

Surveying the room with his haughty gaze, he observed the mildly amusing antics of the hoi polloi. Dancing about like common day laborers at a harvest festival! Why the Ministry allowed these peasants to carry wands and wear shoes was beyond him.

_"Speaking of barefooted peasants…" _

Ron Weasley was posted near the buffet, attempting to smother his sorrows in hors d' oeuvres. He appeared to be having an awful time and there didn't seem to be enough cheese and dip to compensate for it.

_"The weasel seems to be upset. How lovely. Is it because his robes are so ugly, the fact that no one is talking to him, or because his 'claw wog date is snogging that Durmstrang wizard? Maybe it's just because he's poor and stupid. Ah, who cares about the troubles of the proles? The important question is: how can I make this night even more 'memorable' for the swine?"_

He looked over at his 'friends' Crabbe and Goyle. Crabbe was shoveling food into his mouth with both hands and Goyle was snogging Millicent Bulstrode and jamming a hand up under her skirt.

_"Yecch, disgusting. I'd wonder if anyone bothered to teach these people manners, but I know it would have overtaxed their tiny minds. Sometimes it's so difficult being a leader of men!"_

"Crabbe! Wipe your hands. Goyle! Put that slut down and attend me. We've work to do."

The henchmen composed themselves and joined their master. The Slytherin trio sauntered over to the unhappy Weasley looking for trouble.

Ron saw their approach and screwed up his face in its fiercest glare. He detested all Slytherins but hated Draco most of all.

The blond boy took up his usual pose, flanked by his meat bookends, and began to abuse the angry red. The plethora of discarded butterbeer bottles in his area and his general unkempt demeanor indicated a certain level of intoxication in the impoverished blood traitor.

"Ah, Weasley. I see they put out your trough for the party. How delightful for you."

"Piss off Malfoy!"

"Eloquent as ever, but why so glum? Sad that your date left?"

Ron snorted. "Whatever. The girls love me, why should I care if one wanders off?"

"Yes, quite the Lothario, aren't you." Draco eyed the hideous orange robes replete with food stains, saliva, and mucus. "The ladies must be positively brawling amongst themselves to be with the great Ronald Weasley."

"Heh, no doubt. After the 'Weasley Meat Wand' they are!" Ron suddenly looked alarmed. "That's not why you lot are over here, is it? 'Cause I don't keep for that team, you know!"

Draco looked disgusted. "Your virtue is quite safe with me, I assure you."

Ron took a big bite from a dinner roll, but spoke anyway. "Thash great, alwa' thoucgth you lo' was a buncgh a sissies!"

Draco looked down to see his dress robes were speckled in crumbs from the red headed garbage pit. He casually brushed the offending articles from his raiment.

"Be that as it may, I can't help but notice you seem to have broken with the Potter and that Granger creature. Here I thought you all were the best of friends."

Ron swallowed and exclaimed. "Mental they are! Potter gets all smug with his money and his glory, and then he steals away my homework bint! Couldn't stand to let anyone have something he wanted."

"And I assume you wanted the mudblood Granger for yourself?"

Ron grinned creepily. "Just for a quick shag or two, heard the Muds' are easy lays."

"Indeed, menial labor and servicing purebloods like ourselves are quite appropriate occupations for such filth. She should be eager for your attentions."

Ron nodded. "Yeah, true that. But Potter had to come along and declare his 'love' for the girl!"

"Well, he was birthed in a ditch from a mudblood whore. Naturally he may well harbor an affinity for livestock like Granger as a result."

Ron nodded his concurrence and took a swig from yet another butterbeer.

Malfoy smirked a bit to himself. The conversation had progressed as he had envisioned and it was now time to 'plant the seed' as it were.

He looked at his nails as he casually posed. "What I fail to understand is why you allow the half-blood Potter to dictate terms. I understand you are his 'friend' for reasons that baffle me, but you should make your own wishes felt. You wish to take the mudblood for your toy? Do so. Don't allow Potter to stand in your way."

Ron stood up and looked Malfoy in the eye.

"That's rich coming from you! After all, Potter, the mud, and the squib took out you and your boys easy enough!"

Draco was taken aback. He tried to think of any incidents where he had been bested by Potter, but only heard an odd voice in his head intoning. _"That did not happen. Draco Malfoy remains unvanquished. Now change the subject and never speak of this again."_

To Ron, he said. "I don't know what you mean. Besides, I understand Potter gave you a little 'bath' in the Black Lake a few months ago."

Ron concentrated his meager mental resources and tried to recall any incidents involving Harry and the lake. He heard a voice in his head that sounded a lot like his mother, (the real one and not the overly nurturing column beyond the doors) "_That never happened. Harry is your friend. No one would harm my Ronniekins! Now make friends with Harry, finish your dinner, and go de-gnome the garden!"_

Ron's normal internal voice spoke. _"That's weird! Oh well, who cares?" _

To Draco he said. "What the hell are you on about?"

Strangely, both parties felt a compulsion to be away from each other.

Draco said. "Fine, why do I even bother? Enjoy living in poverty without even a mudblood to shag!"

"Sod off Malfoy! I don't need your help! Just because you're a git I'm gonna go and shag your mum!"

Draco shot back. "You leave my mother out of this! She's too pure to even be mentioned by the likes of you!"

Ron began to make an odd humping motion with his hands and hips. "Ooh Narcissia! Yeah, you like the 'meat wand', dontcha? What's that? Stick it in yer arse? You got it!"

"Funny you should mention that, but I thought I saw fat Molly out by the Hog's Head selling her gigantic arse for five sickles a go. Have to foot the Hogwarts bill somehow I guess!"

Ron's face turned quite red. "Oi! My mum would never whore around like that! You take that back!"

"Never for the likes of you, peasant!"

Ron drew his wand. "I'll make you, ya git!"

Draco drew his. "A pathetic wizard like you? Never happen."

Just then, Severus Snape and Minerva McGonagall reached the scene of impending violence.

McGonagall spoke. "What in Merlin's name is going on here?"

Snape replied. "Obviously the Weasley boy is antagonizing Mister Malfoy and his friends. I believe the ill mannered lout deserves a detention for his outburst."

McGonagall countered. "Maybe, but I also heard Mister Malfoy shout imprecations to Mister Weasley as well."

"Under provocation. Draco is blameless." Snape stood by his Slytherins.

Ron's self control snapped. "Blameless my arse! The gits was knocking on my mum!"

Snape smiled evilly. "As I said, an ill mannered lout."

McGonagall, who was angry at both Ron for being an idiot, and Snape for getting one over on her due to Ron's intemperance, scolded the red headed boy.

"Mister Weasley! Remove yourself from the Hall immediately! We shall discuss your punishment later. Professor Snape, Mister Malfoy, as you were."

Draco smirked mildly as Snape nodded. "Minerva."

The Slytherin triumph over Weasley was complete.

* * *

><p>Harry and Hermione were unaware of the altercation between Ron and Draco, as they were having too much fun to be brought down by such petty bickering.<p>

Several songs later, Harry and Hermione left the floor for a breath of air. A quick stop by the refreshments table and one revealing charm later, the couple had their un-spiked drinks (the twins were in attendance, after all) for a stroll through the temporary rose garden. Even with the heating charms, the coolness of the outdoor environment was very welcome.

Arm in arm, the pair walked along the path and spoke quietly about unimportant things, managing to avoid a few amorous couples and a whispering Hagrid and Madam Maxime.

At the sight of the large professors, Harry couldn't help but shudder at the thoughts he had at the dragon enclosure two months ago.

Seven feet tall, three hundred plus pounds, and snogging away with abandon was an image that would haunt him for life.

Hermione, thinking he was a bit cold, rubbed his arms for warmth as he turned to face her.

"Thanks love. Having a good time?" He inquired.

"A great time, thanks to my handsome date."

He grinned. "Well, if I meet him, I'll be sure to thank him for you."

She rolled her eyes. "Prat. You know I mean you, silly."

His grin widened. "Well, what would you say if I told you this 'silly prat' had a combination surprise-slash-gift for you?"

"I imagine I'd ask what it was. Then I would probably demand it be presented to me immediately."

"Hmm, sounds like something you might say. But what if you discovered there was a price to be paid for the surprise-slash-gift?"

She looked at him quizzically. "I would probably wonder how it could be classified as a 'gift' if it's something I have to pay for. Curiosity would most likely compel me to inquire as to the tariff, though."

"I would respond that the price for this gift would be one you would gladly pay, and I'm pretty sure the gift is no mean trinket either."

"Indeed. Seeing as there are no tags in view, and the salesgirl seems to be on break, I must ask; how much?"

Harry smiled widely. "I demand that you kiss me."

Hermione smiled back. "C'mere you." And kissed him soundly.

A few minutes later, she let him up for air.

"Right then. What do I get?"

Harry shook his head. "Is that all you're about? Materiel things?"

Hermione grinned. "Yup. Now what's my present?"

He sighed. "As if my love wasn't enough."

"Hey, you brought up the 'present' thing. I'd happily kiss you all day long for free!"

Harry reached into a pocket and smiled. "I may hold you to that sometime soon."

"Yeah well, it'll go a lot easier with less teasing."

He looked around the patio area and said. "I think the present might work better a few yards thataway." Pointing away from the castle.

Hermione looked a little puzzled, but allowed him to lead her towards the darkened lawn.

They stopped about half a football pitch away from the rose garden, well beyond the heating charms. He held her with one arm and rubbed her back for warmth.

"Well, what is it?" She hated to be kept waiting.

Harry smiled and withdrew his hand from his pocket. In his fist was an off white woolen sock.

"Okaay, I appreciate the thought, but you could have at least gotten me the other one too."

He chuckled and shook his head. "That's not the present. That's the ride."

"Oh. Right."

With a smirk, he jabbed his wand at the sock they both held and activated the portkey, vanishing them from sight and from Hogwarts.

A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but this next update will be along very soon. The Ball was kind of tough to write for me for some odd reason. Guess my muse prefers violence and conflict over peace and celebration. She seems quite the vengeful one!


	18. Practice Dives

A/N: I do not own the Harry Potter Franchise. Chances are, you don't either. Anyone up for a trip to Scotland so we can take what we want and re-write those two final books?

One Wizard Too Many

Ch 18

Practice Dives

Harry and Hermione whizzed through magical space at dizzying speeds thanks to Harry's portkey. Hermione knew not their destination, but she trusted Harry not to take her anywhere 'stupid or dangerous'. She could gather from the prolonged spinning that the distance they were traveling must've been considerable.

After a period of about ten minutes, the spinning stopped and the couple found themselves falling. Some vigorous kicking of their legs saw them kept upright (unlike their experience with the World Cup portkey), and Hermione felt her feet contact the surface gently.

A surface that seemed very granular and warm.

_"Sand! We've landed on a beach somewhere."_

After a moment, her hunch was proven correct as she could see, hear, smell, and practically taste an ocean somewhere nearby. There was an Italianate style villa overlooking a long beach. Two vehicles seemed to be parked in the driveway just barely visible from her vantage point, and the entire inland area seemed to be screened by a belt of palm trees.

Harry just stood by grinning like mad as she put together the appropriate puzzle pieces.

_"Okay, based on that silly expression he's wearing, he's waiting on me to figure this whole thing out. Right then, let's be about it."_

"We're on a beach near an ocean, as I can smell the salt from here."

He grinned wider. "Yup. But anyone with a nose could tell me that."

She felt the warm sand on her feet. "We're also at a fairly low latitude, as its very comfortable and I don't feel any warming charms."

"Right again"

"Of course." She looked into the sky. It was just about sunset as the reddish sun was nearly sunk into the golden ocean. "We're in the western hemisphere, obviously on a beach facing west, since we left Scotland at about eleven in the evening and it seems to be about five here." Looking straight up, she could see a few stars beginning to show in the eastern sky. "I would also say we're north of the equator, based on the visible constellations. We're either on an island in the Caribbean or the western coast of Florida."

Harry's grin started to slip into a slight look of awe.

She smirked. "Based on the fact those two cars over by the beach house seem to be right hand drive, I would guess Jamaica or the Cayman Islands, as it's just a bit too warm for the Bahamas."

They were interrupted by a familiar voice. "Ten points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger. Told you she was the brightest witch of her age."

"Couldn't agree more Remus."

She spun around to catch sight of Remus Lupin and his companions.

"Mum? Dad? Whatever are you doing here?" She ran over to hug her parents.

Her mum answered. "Well, three weeks ago we were visited by a beautiful snowy owl bearing an invitation for a tropical vacation. The chance to get away from chilly old England was nice enough, but what really sold us was the opportunity to see our lovely daughter fresh from the Yule Ball."

Her Dad added. "And lovely is right! You look smashing dear."

Hermione blushed very red.

Harry spoke. "Thank you very much for coming, Mister and Missus Granger. Hope the trip wasn't too much of an imposition."

Hermione's father answered. "Imposition? An offer to spend two weeks in Jamaica over the Christmas Hols at no charge and you think we might consider it an imposition? You can call me Nathan, by the way."

Hermione's mum looked up from her hug. "And my name is Alice, dear. Thank you ever so much for the invitation."

Hermione released her fierce hug from her mother and turned to attack Harry. Between kisses, she managed to say. "Best. Present. Ever!"

A thoroughly blushing Harry could only grin stupidly.

Hermione smiled at her handiwork. _"Drunk on kisses sweeter than wine indeed!"_

Just then something niggled at the borders of her consciousness regarding her father's words to Harry.

"Wait. Two weeks in Jamaica? Are you guys staying on after we return to school?"

Alice smiled. She loved a good puzzle just as much as her daughter.

"Why no, we're set to fly back to Heathrow on the first of the year. Believe you have a port-thingy set up for then too."

"So you've already been here for a week? Without us?"

Nathan smiled along with his wife. "Yes and no."

"What? How could it be both?"

Remus eased into the conversation. "I would imagine it might have something to do with Sirius over there, a certain magical artifact, and two other people on this beach whom you can't see from here."

Sirius walked up to the group from the seaward side, smirking oddly and swinging something around on a chain. "Hello again you too!"

Hermione was a bit confused at the strange way everyone was behaving. Remus' mention of a 'magical artifact' seemed to ping off of something in her mind though.

She looked into the middle distance in thought and said quietly to her self. "We're already here, aren't we?" She looked up at Remus. "We are already on this beach because Sirius has a time turner!"

The werewolf smiled proudly at her keen critical thinking skills.

Sirius just snorted. "Well, you were actually halfway into the surf snogging like no tomorrow when I left you a minute ago."

"Glad you left then, perv." Harry muttered, but smirked in jest.

Remus cut off Sirius' retort. "Now that we all know what's going on, thanks to Miss Granger's sleuthing abilities, I suggest we send these two back to the start point. Being in two places at once is a recipe for paradox."

Harry took the time turner from Sirius and led Hermione off a short distance away.

"See you, er, later? Sooner? Another time?"

He looped the chain around the two of them and spun the dial seven times. The couple glowed for a moment and disappeared with a whoosh.

"There they go." Remus said somewhat unnecessarily.

Sirius nodded and the elder Granger's minds boggled a bit. The wizard may have been familiar with the oddities of time travel, but the scientifically based dentists marveled at the fact that if their daughter had happened to touch her future self, there was an excellent chance that Jamaica would be permanently removed from the map via high energy matter-antimatter explosion.

Possibly, at least. The physics of time travel were murky at best.

Still, the prospect of two hundred and ten pounds of high explosive Hermione, given the fact that two one hundred and five pound Hermione's would be detonating simultaneously, was a cause for concern.

Even more unsettling was the fact that their school entrusted their then thirteen year old daughter with her own personal time travel device completely unsupervised. What if she had encountered herself accidentally between classes? One hundred and eighty pounds of mutually annihilating Hermione (90 lb Hermione x2) would have removed a fair sized chunk of Scotland.

Nathan spoke. "Uh Remus? What exactly would a paradox entail?"

"Usually some disorientation and a very stiff headache. Nothing too awful and catastrophic generally."

"No high energy explosions?"

Remus chuckled. "No, but I can see where you would be concerned. I assume you're thinking of the rules that matter can only occupy one place at a time, correct?"

"Yeah, that's generally how that works."

"Yes, generally. Magic, however, has a built in 'safety valve' that prevents that sort of thing. You see, if Harry or Hermione were to have headed down the beach and shook hands with their future selves, their magic would have established a minute field that would have prevented them from actually touching. The backlash would probably have thrown them apart and stunned them for a while, but to no lasting harm."

"Oh. Well that's good then. Wonder how somebody discovered that!"

"Indeed, wizard-kind are not known for careful and well considered actions."

Sirius barked a short laugh. "Understatement of the year that!"

He took the Grangers by the shoulders and led them down toward the beach.

"To illustrate my point, let me tell you just what Harry and your daughter got up to last year…"

* * *

><p>Harry and Hermione spun a bit in the grip of the time turner's magic, witnessing seven odd reverse sunsets at high speed, as well as the blurs of individuals moving about the beach. The fact that some of the blurs were their future selves going about their business made it all the more strange.<p>

Finally, the spinning stopped. The pair looked around at the quiet beach to find Sirius relaxing in a deck chair and reading a comic book, evidently waiting for them.

"Ah, ye made it! How's the weather this week?"

Hermione answered. "Great! Looks like a little rain on Wednesday afternoon, but otherwise it'll be fabulous."

Harry looked at her askance. "That's what that was? Went by too fast for me to notice." All he saw during the eight seconds that comprised 'Wednesday' was an odd darkening of the sky that seemed to last all of a few milliseconds.

"The sand was wet for half a second. That translates to about four hours in real time."

"Ah, guess that's when we'll have to schedule the wet t-shirt contest then."

The comment earned Harry a smack on the arm and a muttered "You wish!"

Sirius thought it was a little funny at least.

"Heh. Anyway, Remus should be back soon with your Mum and Dad from the airport in Montego Bay. If you want to have any explanations handy as to why you're here and also 'currently' in Scotland, now would be a good time to start thinking one up."

"Well, I was tricked into being here by my boorish boyfriend." She turned to Harry, eyebrow raised. "If you grovel effectively and well, my father may yet allow you to live."

Harry smirked for a second before falling to his knees in front of her. He caressed her feet, kissed the hem of her dress, and began to wail piteously for mercy.

Unfortunately for Harry, Remus and the Grangers chose that moment to pull up to the villa and dismount the vehicle. Naturally, they had a splendid view of Hermione receiving homage from a kow-towing Harry, with Sirius looking on and chuckling heartily.

Once Harry was pulled to his feet and the mickey thoroughly taken from the lad, he was presented with the peculiar distinction of being introduced to two people he would actually meet for the first time next week.

_"Only in the magical world can I meet someone for the second time before I meet them for the first! No wonder wizards are all fucking nuts!"_

* * *

><p>The last two weeks of the year were doubtlessly the best of Harry's short and eventful life. Days were spent achieving his scuba certification, taught by a local muggleborn wizard. Practical instruction began in the villa's large pool, before moving to the warm clear waters off Jamaica for open water training. He learned the ins and outs of single tank and two tank dives, the uses of standard air versus Nitrox (a higher proportion of oxygen to nitrogen than regular air) and Trimix (<span>O<span>, N, He mixture for really deep dives), and the trickiness of regulators. Evenings saw him and Remus inspecting the various 'accoutrements' the werewolf was able to gather through his underworld contacts.

"Firstly, you should know that muggle special forces have developed a whole range of weaponry for use underwater. A great deal of it is somewhat experimental and difficult to use effectively. That being said, I did manage to acquire this little beauty; a Soviet SPP-1 Underwater Pistol." He held up an odd looking four barreled handgun with a large trigger and correspondingly large trigger guard. "The Soviets have also developed an automatic rifle variant, but I was unable to secure an example in the time we had."

Remus frowned as he said this. While he was a bit leery about providing deadly armaments to a fourteen year old boy _("I gave him a fucking RPG-7 to whack that dragon! Holy shit!") _He was bound and determined to do his best for his adopted cub. His best meant that he would make sure the deadliest thing in that lake would be an armed and trained Harry Potter. No exceptions. If that meant the giant squid would whimper in fear and surviving mermen would tell legends of the 'Green eyed Destroyer from Above', then so be it.

Remus continued. "This weapon fires steel darts to a range of twenty meters and has a magazine capacity of four rounds. It breaks open like a shotgun to reload. Hopefully you won't need to reload it, or use it in the first place. You'll have it holstered on your waist should you need it."

Remus picked up a menacing looking metallic 'gun' with attached tanks and a rifle stock grip.

"This is your primary weapon, a basic speargun with larger compressed air reserves. You will be able to fire off about two dozen spears, which you'll carry in a quiver strapped to your tank. You reload it like so."

The werewolf took a three foot long spear with a barbed point and fitted the non-lethal end into a short tube halfway down the guns length. A quick turn of a lever near the tank locked the spear in place. A pull of the large trigger sent the spear whizzing across the room with a thunking hiss to imbed a third of its length into the thick plaster wall.

"Wicked!" Harry was impressed.

"Indeed. And quite fatal to anything you hit with it. Be very careful with this."

Remus put the speargun back in its place on the table and picked up an old crate from the floor. Wrenching the lid off with his bare hands (werewolf strength allowed him to do things like that); Harry saw it was filled with some sort of odd metal disks about nine inches in diameter. Each had a ring taped down to its otherwise unremarkable surface, which was painted a sort of dull grey.

"What are those, reinforced dinner plates for Ron?"

"Mister Weasley would be ill advised to try and eat off of this. These are Mark 1 Limpet Mines, used for underwater demolition of enemy shipping and for you, supplemental ballast."

"Ah, if I'm going to take some dead weight down there, might as well make it 'useful' dead weight."

"Precisely. And just this once I'll forgive you the unintentional oxymoron in that statement. Continuing, these are used for blowing largish holes in things, and are set on a timer which is started by pulling this pin. The timer is adjustable in five minute segments, least being ten minutes." On the back, Remus pointed out a small dial and knob. "This item is also quite deadly and very useful for covering an escape. It attaches via magnet to metallic surfaces, but we've set contact activated sticking charms as well."

"Right. Anyway, what else have you for me?"

"You'll also have a satchel of police grade flash-bang grenades. As designed for land use they are non-lethal but very distracting. Deploying them under water could potentially make them lethal, as concussive water pressure can be fatal depending on one's proximity to the blast. Do not let one off near yourself or anyone you don't wish so see die painfully."

"Heh. That doesn't leave out that many people, really."

Remus smiled his sad smile. "Yes, well, please do try to confine your homicides to less public venues than Triwizard events if you are able."

Harry sighed. "It's so difficult to work under such strict conditions!"

* * *

><p>The two week trip wasn't all work and training for young Harry, though. Considerable beach time with his lovely girlfriend was arranged, as was acceptable amounts of snogging time in the evenings. Dinners at the various restaurants in the Montego Bay area, as well as steady patronage of several nightspots were also on the agenda. The elder Grangers got into the swing of things as well, with Nate demonstrating his decent drive and skillful irons work to the wizards on a golf outing as the ladies shopped in town. Harry found he had a pretty good short game, but everyone was impressed with Remus' titanic drives from the tee. Sirius, on the other hand, had some difficulty hitting past the ladies tee on several holes. Luckily for him, he had no problems bringing out 'wee Sirius' for his second stroke from near the red marked tee box.<p>

Nate muttered under his breath. "Have'ta get him some practice 'fore he gets himself a sunburn!"

Harry just snickered and studiously looked away.

The evening of their 'arrival' was a bit odd, as the thought of two of them existing simultaneously was distinctly unnatural. Snogging passionately in the roaring surf helped take their minds off of the strangeness of the situation, while the adults were busy greeting their 'other' selves.

The second week passed as quickly as the first, with daily rounds of training, snogging, sunbathing, dancing, a repeat of the golf outing (Sirius' game didn't improve much, leading him to declare the next round he played would be performed pants less, thereby saving him a great deal of time removing and re-seating 'wee Sirius'. Nate just offered to get him a kilt and be done with it.)

Harry also trained up on the various weapons to build familiarity, causing numerous conjured 'merman Snape' targets to succumb to spears, steel darts, and submarine concussions. On the magical side, Hermione insisted he learn the bubblehead charm as a backup.

Throughout the stolen two weeks in paradise, Harry's thoughts regarding Hermione and their fledgling relationship began to worry him a bit. Not that he doubted his feelings for the girl; he had never felt more connected to a person and was having the time of his life with her. Her parents were also supportive of the couple, respecting Harry for his consideration of their daughter and the obvious affection they showed each other; minimizing any potential family troubles.

No, the problem, Harry realized as the group all lounged away a lazy afternoon on a soft sand beach by the Caribbean's azure waters, was that maybe he cared for the brainy young witch a bit _too_ much.

He inclined his head slightly to regard his girlfriend through dark sunglasses as she lay on her stomach and read a musty old tome that had no business being on a tropical beach. His eyes ranged over her shapely legs that were acquiring a bit of color in the warm climate of Jamaica. They moved to her rather magnificent bum barely covered by a bikini bottom and were, like her legs, well toned from near continuous stair climbing during the school term. Her back was strong but feminine, and also beginning to turn golden brown beneath the southern sun. Her hair, brunette with a few developing blonde highlights, was currently wet with sea water and scrunched into a pony tail. Her face and front side of her body was currently out of view, but Harry knew it to be of a piece with the back: breathtakingly gorgeous.

Hermione was a looker all right. She was also the smartest person Harry knew, scary smart and more brilliant than any professor or even the vaunted Dumbledore. She was funny and kind, passionate about life, love, and being a force for good in the world.

She was also, much to Harry's utter surprise and delight, his girlfriend and best friend. He knew she would do anything and everything for him, to see him safe and successful and happier than he ever thought it possible to be.

He knew he would do anything for her, to insure her happiness and safety.

And that, right there, was the problem.

Harry shifted his gaze to scan the horizon, looking west over the sea towards a far distant Mexican shore, far below the curvature of the Earth.

He knew he cherished Hermione deeply, and would move heaven and earth to protect her. This in and of itself was a good and noble thing, for don't we all do this for those whom we love?

The problem for Harry though, was that he realized that he really didn't care too deeply about who might get hurt as he moved that heaven and earth for his Hermione.

Harry leaned back in his beach chair and sighed as he considered his 'Homeric' fatal flaw, and the one thing that would compel him to go dark.

What was Hermione worth to him? If it came down to a matter of life and death (and since it was Harry Potter, it probably would eventually), how did Hermione's stack up? Hermione versus Gryffindor? Hermione versus Hogwarts? Versus magical Britain? The world?

His face showed a wry grin as he looked up into the bright blue sky. He knew the answer.

It was rather simple, really. Hermione had done much for him over the years, including saving his life a number of times. What had the world done for him besides shit on him repeatedly and try to kill him with monotonous regularity?

Besides, without Hermione Granger, there really wasn't much to Harry Potter besides unholy amounts of magical power and an utter lack of restraint.

He knew that if something happened to Hermione, he would taste the madness again; that red mist that descends like a curtain over his vision whenever some fool and his hearts blood needed to be separated through violent means.

Surprisingly, he was less bothered by this than he thought he should be. Someone or something tries to deprive him of his love; he starts killing and destroying until someone stops him.

Oh well, sucks for them then, doesn't it?

Just then Hermione slams her big book shut and stands up. A quick stretch was followed by a glance at Harry.

"I'm hot."

Harry grinned. "I would have to agree."

She smiled. "Prat. I meant I think it's time for a dip. Care to join me?"

"Any time my dear. Lead on."

Harry put his apocalyptical thoughts aside to splash around in the surf with his girlfriend, with one last thought to encapsulate the argument.

_"My world would be pointless without her in it, so what does it really matter if it comes out on the losing side of any decision?"_

If anything happened to Hermione Granger, the world would pay.

A/N: Sorry about the long delay. I became a little tired of this story for a while. Add in the fact that Der la Croix updated his wonderful story "Rocking the Boat" with an awesomely kick ass Harry, Dragon Raptor updating his story "The Curses Cure", Marius Darkwolf updating "Eyes of the Serpent", Robst updating several of his stories (all of which are gold!), and Larry Huss adding to "Remus Lupin, P.I.", and suddenly I found my tale pushed on to the back burner for a bit. All of these stories mentioned, and several more not so named, are so rich and well written that they make my piddling little efforts seem like the facebook posts of a red bull addled 'twitard' semi-literate preteen gush over the dramatically brooding Edward Cullen's abdominal development! I can't recommend them enough to anyone who might find my silly little rambling entertaining.


	19. A Bad Day for the Aurors

A/N: Do I own it? No. Does that make me sad? A little. What's the worst part about not owning it? Well, let's see; not being a multi billionaire is unpleasant, not being famous is 'meh', but having to sit by and watch Hermione waste herself on Ron Weasley is downright infuriating. Why Joanne? Why?

One Wizard Too Many

Ch 19

A Bad Day for the Aurors

Returning from vacation is always difficult.

It becomes even more arduous when those returning from leisure and paradise are forced to resume their prior lives surrounded by contempt and mortal danger. Fortunately Harry and Hermione were both quite used to being held in contempt and nearly killed on a regular basis.

That's not to say they enjoyed it, however.

Luckily for them, a combination of short days, an increased scholastic workload, general public apathy, and mutual support managed to cause January and most of February to slip away quickly.

Time may have passed speedily, but passing time does not heal all; or indeed alleviate a constant source of angst.

"Harry. You have to calm down. And what did that dinner roll ever do to you, anyway?"

He realized he was smashing an inoffensive hunk of bread in his fist as he contemplated his problem. Angrily, he hurled it down the table towards Ron, who shrugged as he picked a few pieces out of his hair and ate them.

"I can't calm down. All I want to do is hex a bloody swathe through the fools who thought up this task."

She sighed. "Is it still the 'sorely miss' thing again?"

"Yes! It most certainly _is_, thank you very much!"

"We don't even know what they mean to take. It might be something like your broom or some other object. Won't you feel stupid if I'm not the hostage?"

"But Hermione, what if they do go with the hostage thing?" Harry asked, a slight tinge of exasperation to his voice.

"Well, then maybe I'm not a hostage. Maybe it'll be someone else?"

"Who else can it be? Besides you, Remus, Sirius, and maybe Neville, everyone else magical can go happily buss my blind cheeks! What's worse, stupid me has gone and made that fact abundantly clear to all who would listen!"

She smiled slightly, trying to jolly him up a bit. "It could be someone else. Magicals are notoriously inobservant. What if it's, I don't know, Ron?"

She didn't get the expected chuckle at such an absurd idea like she was hoping for.

"No freaking way. I've pretty much announced that I wouldn't spare the piss to put him out if he was on fire. It's you. It has to be you!"

"Harry, relax! So what if they do pick me? I mean, I don't want to be stuck at the bottom of Black Lake in the middle of February. Who would? But I can't see Professor Dumbledore letting anyone get hurt. And mind your language, by the way."

The pair sat at their usual places along the Gryffindor table, apart from the other students and allowing another heavy Hogwarts dinner to digest before the students were dismissed to their evening activities. Being as it was the evening before the Second Task, Harry knew his evening activities would most likely involve a lot of nervous energy and a sleepless night, maybe a little anger and ass whupping if Ron managed to piss him off. At least the ass whupping might be kind of fun.

Harry ignored her admonition to relax. "Dumbledore is a man. He's fallible like any other. I don't want you put into a dangerous situation."

"Why is that? Don't think I can take care of myself?" Hermione asked, a dangerous glint to her eyes. She was trying to be supportive, but his whinging was starting to grate on her nerves.

"No! Wait, I mean yes you can take care of yourself, I've seen hard evidence of that fact several times over the years. It's just that this all seems so ridiculous! Haven't we been in enough _real_ danger? Why should you have to expose yourself to some fake danger due to some stupid contest? Sorry about the p-word."

Hermione was somewhat mollified, but still pouted. "Okay, I see your point. But you face real danger in this tournament, why can't I be with you for once?"

Harry sighed. He knew watching him battle the dragon in the first task must've been very difficult for her, what with her utter inability to help him. Fortunately, the RPG warhead made the task relatively quick and painless, for him at least.

Call it a primal urge, male chauvinism, or just a protective nature; Harry just really really did not want to see her be 'kidnapped' and placed in a position of danger at the bottom of that bloody lake!

Besides, it really would be safer for everyone if they just left her alone. Less of a chance Harry would have to kill anyone, really.

Hermione saw how torn he was over the whole thing and figured that maybe she should dial down the 'warrior princess' routine and soothe his fragile male ego a bit.

_"It's so cute of him to be so worried!"_

She took his hand and rubbed it gently.

"Listen, I'm sure everything will be fine. Just stay calm and focus on what you have to do!"

Harry calmed a bit, but was still far from happy.

"Yeah, rescue my girlfriend from the floor of some stupid freezing lake!" He muttered.

"If you manage to cheer up a bit, I'll make it worth your while." She replied in a flirtatious undertone.

"Oh?" He asked, brightening. "Whatever did you have in mind?"

"Well, I'm thinking that some of your hot kisses tonight are just the thing to keep me warm tomorrow during the task." She blushed a bit and gazed at him through lowered lashes.

"Hmm. If I really must, I suppose." Harry pretended to mull it over, grinning the whole while.

She giggled and stood up with him, taking his hand as he began to lead her back to Gryffindor Tower.

Fifteen feet from the door, the couple was intercepted by Professor McGonagall and a smug looking Percy Weasley.

Just as Harry's mood had rebounded at the thought of some 'prime cuddle time', it was trashed by fate and the stupid tournament. A pair of stunners would solve the problem nicely, but zapping a professor and a 'valued ministry official' without provocation might be a bit much.

McGonagall cut right to the chase. "Miss Granger, I'm going to need you to come with me."

Harry immediately became defensive, stepping between his girlfriend and his head of house.

"Why do you need Hermione, Professor?" He asked in a low tone.

"I think you know, Mister Potter. Now please, step aside."

"Why, so you can dump her in the lake?" He asked with some heat.

"Harry!" Hermione called from behind him, trying to calm the irate wizard by stroking his shoulder.

"It's all part of the tournament; Miss Granger will be perfectly safe." McGonagall replied in a soothing manner.

"Safe? What's that like? Pretty rare around here, safety is!" Harry muttered cynically.

Just then, a sneering Percy decided to weigh in, making the situation even more tense.

"Stand aside, Potter! You'll get all the attention you want tomorrow."

An already stressed Harry did not take kindly to the comment.

"Why don't you piss off 'Weatherby'? This has nothing to do with you!"

Percy huffed. "It most certainly does! I'm here as official Ministry representative!"

"Awesome for you. Why don't you go and wank off over a report about cauldron bottoms or something?"

"Mister Potter! Enough! Mister Weasley, please! Allow me to handle this." McGonagall tried to take back control of the situation.

"Yeah, trust the stupid Ministry to screw up a free lunch!"

Harry had little love for the Ministry of Magic. Any chance to vent his spleen on a supercilious drone was one to be cherished.

Percy was unamused. "We're the premier magical government in the world! How dare you criticize us like that?"

"I dare because I'm a constituent, you ass! It's my fucking job to criticize!" Harry's time with Hermione had granted him greater insight into some of the 'bigger picture' problems of the world, like the duties of the government to the governed.

Harry's outburst earned him a light smack from Hermione for his 'blue' word choice, and a withering glare from McGonagall for his temerity.

Percy, however, responded with a typical 'Weasley' rejoinder.

"Oh, always so arrogant and entitled, aren't you Potter? Ron was right when he said you were stuck up!"

The Weasley situation worsened when Ron, upon hearing his name, approached the group from the Gryffindor table side, behind Hermione.

"Yeah! Stuck up! Always so high and mighty, with your fancy broom and mudblood girlfriend and stuff!"

Hermione, who up until now had been desperately trying to calm Harry down, turned to address the ginger prat.

"What did you just say? And why are you a part of this conversation?"

And Ron proceeded to sign his own death warrant with a flourish.

"Shut up you mudblood hussy, the men are talking here."

Percy ignored Ron's comment, while Harry and McGonagall were momentarily stunned.

Hermione, however decided the best retort to that comment was a very hard right cross to the face.

Whap! Ron staggered and fell to a seated position on the floor near the Hufflepuff table, his nose pouring blood and a dazed look on his face.

"Nice!" Harry always appreciated a good overhand right. The fact it came from his lovely girlfriend just made it a bit sexy.

It was now Percy's turn to be stunned as his mouth flapped open wordlessly.

Ron just looked up at the group from the ground.

"Hey Harry, I've got a chess set here, fancy a match?" He slurred, before slumping into unconsciousness against Susan Bones' leg.

Harry was fighting a grin as McGonagall began to chastise Hermione.

"Miss Granger! While I can understand being upset…"

A red faced Percy took this opportunity to lunge at Hermione.

"You mudblood bitch! You just assaulted my brother!"

Harry reacted instantly and violently, shoving Percy away from Hermione.

Suddenly, a curse whizzed by Harry and smacked into the wall.

Someone from the Slytherin table shouted. "Potter is attacking the Ministry!"

_"Oh fuck, shit just got real!" _Harry felt that familiar adrenaline surge.

McGonagall shouted. "Students! Stand down!"

Her warnings did not prevent the Slytherins from firing off a couple of hexes in the general direction of the Gryffindors. A few of the lions went down from stunners or freezing curses. McGonagall shouted for her house to not escalate the situation and lower their wands. Dumbledore and Flitwick, who were halfway across the hall and approaching to lend assistance to McGonagall, stopped and began trying to calm the hex-happy snakes.

Harry was by this time crouching over Hermione near the shelter of the Gryff table. Both of them had wands out and were looking intently toward the Slytherins. It wasn't until he heard the beginning of an incantation that Harry glanced towards Percy to see the angry red pointing his wand right at them.

"Reducto!"

Harry swiveled and threw up a hasty shield to block the blasting curse. The shield held, but threw Harry and Hermione hard into the table. The area effect of the blast also knocked McGonagall off her feet, as well as sending a few cowering firsties sprawling.

Harry's vision began to turn red around the edges as the fighting madness began to creep up on him. He rolled to his knees and fired a few stunners at Percy. His shield deflected the curses.

A voice from the Slytherin side, sounding a lot like Malfoy called out. "Potter and the mud are trying to assassinate a government official! Let's get them!" Curses began to rain in from the other side of the hall.

And just like that, Draco Malfoy set off the proverbial powder keg.

"Fackin pricks!" Seamus yelled as the Gryffindors began to return fire.

In the center portion of the Hall, the Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, and Beauxbatons contingents tried to cower or flee as some of their number began to drop from being caught in the crossfire.

The gentlemen of Durmstrang and their headmaster merely put up some shields and watched the fun; looking the most animated they had been since their arrival in Britain.

Harry meanwhile, had repulsed another blasting curse from the irate Percy, which had managed to knock McGonagall unconscious, and decided indirect action was worth a try. A blasting curse of his own aimed at the wall behind Percy showered the former Head Boy with fragments of masonry, distracting him enough for a stunner to connect and end their little part of the fight.

Hermione was by this time crouching behind Harry and shielding him from the Slytherin barrage. When she noticed Percy had been put down, she grabbed Harry and pulled him towards the Gryffindor table.

"Let's push the table over! Give the lower years a shot at some cover!" She shouted to him over the din.

He nodded and grabbed the corner of the table. A strong heave from him and a few of the older boys knocked the stout wooden surface on its side and created a passable oaken shield. A few lions caught on the 'enemy' side of the table hopped over and continued to respond to the Slytherin attacks.

From behind the barrier, Harry shot a few hexes at the snakes and thought about the situation.

_"I have to get Hermione and get out of here! I still have that portkey from the ball, but I need to get us away from the castle for it to work!" _

"Hermione! We have to get the hell out of here!"

She fired a curse over the barricade. "Agreed. Where and How?"

He grinned and showed her the portkey, which happened to be a postcard from Jamaica. "I have a plan!"

He pointed his wand in the general direction of Gryffindor Tower. "Accio Firebolt!"

He turned back to Hermione. "When the broom shows up, I need you to make those windows go away!"

"Right. Why wait though?" She half rolled towards the ornate stained glass windows in the clerestory of the Great Hall. A few blasting curses and a vanishing charm removed the glass and the chain tracery within. In the general chaos, no one noticed.

Dumbledore and Flitwick were, by this time, struggling to set up some area shields between the warring factions while shielding themselves from random sniping attacks. McGonagall was still out cold, and Snape was sitting with the Durmstrangers and Karkaroff, idly commenting on the prowess and technique of the combatants. The other professors, including Madame Maxime, were not present for this set to.

After about a minute and a half, the firebolt appeared speeding through the anteroom and into the Hall through the open doors.

_"Finally! Time to get the fuck out of here!"_

Harry's joy was short-lived though, for as the broom neared the Gryffindor barricade, a stray blasting curse impacted the center part of the handle and blew the magical vehicle in half.

"You fucking bastards! That was a gift!" He fired off a 'siege engine' curse at the Slytherin table, breaking part of it into several pieces and sending a few of the snakes flying through the air.

Hermione pulled him down into cover. "We'll get you a new one! What about plan B?"

"Plan B?"

She rolled her eyes. "Goodness! I know you can be dim, but come on! Plan B is we run for it!"

He grinned and kissed her fiercely.

"I might be dim, but you love me anyway!"

"Yup, I've always had a thing for guys with brute strength and low foreheads!"

He took her hand as they scuttled up to the part of the table near the doors.

He paused to fire off some suppressing fire over the lip of the table. "So you're saying I should be wary of Crabbe and Goyle stealing you away then?"

"Stupefy!" Hermione fired off a curse at an exposed Pansy Parkinson, who dropped out of sight unconscious. "Yeah, those two are right sexy, they are! Like a slightly smellier version of that troll from first year!"

Harry grinned as he sent a bludgeoning hex at Flint, who was shooting of blasting curses like a particularly ugly machine gun. The bludgeoner sent the Quiddich Captain tumbling away in a spray of blood from his even more misshapen nose. "If I'd known you were into stank, I would have given up showering! Think of all that time I wasted!"

"Ha! And here I thought you were wanking during those half hour Malfoy-esque showers!"

"Well, if I was, I blame you for being so damn sexy!"

She blushed. "Oh Harry. Crude but sweet, I love it!"

He kissed her again quickly. Who knew combat could be such an aphrodisiac?

"We'll have to capitalize on that later! Have any good smoke charms?"

The area between the end of the table and the doors consisted of a thirty foot gap of exposed floor in full view of the belligerent Slytherins. A diversion was needed.

George Weasley, who prior to this had been lobbing some sort of 'magical grenade' like things with his twin at the Slytherins, offered a solution to their problem.

"Hey guys! Try this!" He handed an object to Harry that looked a bit like a toy rubber bat. The squeaky, flying kind as opposed to the 'hit things' sort.

"What the hell is this?"

Fred chucked a rubber drumstick, similar to what people buy for their dogs as a chew toy. When the strange object landed amongst a cluster of Slyth sixth years, an oddly colored gas spewed forth that transformed a few of the snakes into chickens. The confused and transfigured students began to cluck and scurry around aimlessly.

Harry looked at George. "What? I throw this at Draco and it turns him into a mini-Snape?"

George took it back from him. "Even we're not _that_ cruel!" He tossed the bat into the exposed area in front of the doors. It bounced once and began to pour out a thick pink smoke.

Harry was impressed, even if the pink smoke put one in mind of the flashy entrance of a flamboyantly gay magician.

He shook his head and got his mind back on task. "George! Sorry about Percy and Ron!"

The red head smiled sadly. "No worries! Always knew they were both arses!"

Harry nodded, and then took Hermione's hand. When the pink smoke filled the area, they both sprinted for the doors.

* * *

><p>A few hexes whizzed overhead, but they both made it successfully into the ante room. A few of the younger years followed them out of the war zone, where they were confronted by Stone Molly the caryatid reminding them that running was not permitted in the halls.<p>

"All right. Let's head for the front doors." Harry grabbed Hermione's hand and started jogging towards the exit.

Suddenly, their path was blocked by two red robed aurors. One was tall and blond, the other short and with dark hair.

_"Damn! Held up by Mutt and Jeff!" _Harry didn't really feel like taking on aurors today, or any day really.

"Hold it there Potter! We heard you started a riot here." 'Mutt', the big blond said.

"It wasn't me, I swear!"

Across the room, Stone Molly leant her support. "My Harry would never misbehave so egregiously as to start a riot!"

The aurors were unamused. "Shut it lady! Potter, you and your little tramp are coming in with us!"

Hermione huffed a little at being categorized as a tramp, but Harry really started to get mad.

"I don't think so, officers. I do think you would be wise to let us pass, though."

A few students ran by trying to escape the conflict raging in the Hall.

"Don't you think you should be getting in there? People are getting hurt!" Hermione tried a little logic on the thick pair.

'Jeff', the smaller and marginally more intelligent one, nodded and began to drag his partner towards the sounds of battle.

Just as Harry and Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, a most unwelcome sight emerged from the pink smoke.

Hermione muttered. "Malfoy, the poncy git!"

Draco took in the scene before him, and began shouting. "Aurors! Arrest those two! They attacked a ministry official!"

Mutt and Jeff turned back to look at the retreating couple.

Harry smiled nervously, and whipped off a pair of bludgeoning curses.

He grabbed Hermione's hand. "Run!"

Jeff flew back into the wall and slumped over, but Mutt was only slightly fazed. Unfortunately for him, he managed to stumble into Stone Molly, who grabbed him and began trying to spank him for 'poor manners and rudeness', as the motherly granite simulacrum put it.

Malfoy fired off a parting curse at the fleeing couple, but Hermione managed to snap off a bludgeoner on the run. Draco caught the curse in the face and was immediately knocked out.

He would have time to mull over his altered profile later, at least until the obliviator showed up to make him forget all about the ouchies.

Harry and Hermione sprinted down the corridor, quickly altering course when they spied more aurors emerging from a cross passage. A few curses erupted from the group, but only managed to chip the walls behind them.

"Harry James Potter! I can't believe you attacked an Auror! Two aurors! What are you thinking?"

Hermione was a bit upset.

Harry growled back. "I'm thinking that if the stupid Ministry can't manage a simple kidnapping, I sure as hell don't think they can manage keeping you safe in the lake!"

"Okay, point. But how the devil do we get out of this?"

They skidded around a turn and pounded up a set of stairs.

"I get you out of here!"

"Then what?"

"I don't know!"

An auror popped out of an alcove and sent a stunner whizzing their way. Hermione threw up a shield to deflect and Harry snapped off a bludgeoner at the man's legs. The auror took the hit badly and fell against the wall.

"This is getting nuts!" Hermione could hold her own, but running battles through the halls of Hogwarts were a bit much.

"Agreed. Look out!" Two more aurors came boiling out of an office less than twenty feet ahead of them. Harry engaged the one on the right, shielding a stunner and catching the man with a petrificus totalis after a blocked jelly legs jinx. Hermione handled the left hand auror by ducking his stunner and connecting with a human to marble transfiguration.

"Nice! Let's head left, towards the quiddich locker rooms!" Harry pulled Hermione's hand to guide her down a side corridor.

Behind them, they could hear other ministry troops baying in pursuit. "Potter and the mudblood went this way!"

Hermione jerked Harry's hand right. "This way! Down these steps and across the atrium! It's a side door leading towards the greenhouses!"

"Right!"

They jumped down a few steps and pounded towards the door at the far side of the atrium. Escape was in sight.

Naturally, right then is when everything went to shit.

"Reducto!"

The blasting curse impacted the floor beneath Hermione's feet, sending the girl flying through the air to impact the wall with a heavy thud.

"Hermione!" Harry was sent sprawling, but scrambled to his feet. He sent a blasting curse back at the auror who injured his girlfriend. The familiar looking official shielded the spell.

"Give it up, Potter!"

"Dawlish? I'm going to fucking kill you."

Dawlish tried to stun him, but he shielded the red curse.

"Fragmentum!" The bone breaker curse caught the auror in the lower leg. The man shouted in pain, but Harry's follow up piercing curse to the gut really got him howling.

"Shut up!" A stunner stopped the man's wailing.

He hurried over to a fallen Hermione. She was unconscious, but breathing well. He wiped a little blood from her cheek and felt the madness begin to overtake him. His vision gained a completely red cast and he could hear his own heart beat in his ears.

"Oh goody, it's murder time." He muttered to no one in particular.

He heard the auror contingent reach the top of the stairs near the atrium. Harry stood and leveled his wand. When the first pair of aurors appeared, he sent off a 'siege engine' curse, splintering the masonry steps and lacerating the men. The screams continued as he loosed a few blasting curses and piercing hexes. One red robed policeman tumbled to the atrium floor and began to rise. A cutting curse to the chest and a bludgeoner stopped his efforts and put him 'hors de combat'.

Harry pulled Hermione into cover and knelt next to her. A few stunners came hissing down the passage, as well as a few more serious curses.

An auror emerged from the stairwell holding a metal shield. Harry's piercing curses dented the artifact, but a severing curse directed at the man's exposed lower extremities literally 'cut him off at the knees'. The screaming man was silenced by the ever useful stunner.

Harry stood up and approached the beleaguered aurors. As he ascended the first step a distant thought tucked away in the back of his mind realized he was starting to enter 'berserker mode', and might start to become careless of his safety. The rest of his enraged mind merely wanted to create a waist high pile of bleeding bodies.

"Fuck the Police!"

A blasting curse sprayed stone chips into the crowd of aurors.

"One Eight Seven on a motherfucking cop!"

A severing curse cut someone off at the elbow.

"Harry! Wait!" A feminine voice sounded from his left.

"What?" He turned to see two aurors emerge from a doorway in the atrium.

He raised his wand and moved back into the atrium, but stopped when the woman and her largish partner had their hands up. The woman's hair was cycling through a number of bright colors. Both she and her big, dark skinned partner appeared more than a bit concerned, but collected.

"Ah, you must be Remus' friend Tonks, right?"

"Yes Harry, and this is my partner Kingsley." The large man nodded.

Harry shrugged. "Great to meet you guys, but right now I'm busy performing a little 'social Darwinism' on some of your colleagues. They hurt my Hermione, you know."

Tonks gave him a sad smile. "We know, and that was wrong. We want to get her some help, but first you need to stop injuring the policemen."

"Why? They started it."

"And they'll be punished for that. But right now, you should put that wand away."

Harry could feel the madness start to ebb from the soothing sound of Tonks' words. He slowly began to kneel to put his wand on the ground.

Just then, a cutting curse ripped from the stairwell to his right. It caught him in the chest and burned like hell.

Tonks shouted. "McLeod! What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Fuck!" Harry groaned in pain, before swiveling to the right and catching this McLeod in the throat with a piercing hex. The treacherous auror grabbed his neck and gurgled in agony.

"Harry! No! Stop!" Tonks was frantic as she watched her détente fall apart spectacularly. Kingsley threw up a shield and grabbed her arm to pull her into cover.

Harry grabbed his chest and felt the warm wetness. Looking down, he saw the blood pouring off him at a steady rate. Consciousness was already starting to slip away from him.

More aurors appeared at the foot of the battle torn stairs. He shielded a few curses and wounded a few more people.

"Come get some, ya fucks." He slurred. Why was he suddenly so tired?

Just as he was tottering on his feet, he noticed a strange shimmering to his far right.

He spun to engage this new target with his fading strength and caught a stunner to his chest. Falling backwards, he struggled against the oncoming darkness. A quick apology to Hermione flashed through his mind for getting her mixed up in this mess.

"_My fault."_

Before falling into the void, he noticed the unforgettable sight of 'Mad Eye' Moody leaning over him.

"G'night Potter. Well done lad."

Darkness.

A/N: Sorry if this chapter seems a bit dark. Hopefully it satisfies all you violence junkies out there. If the idea of one kid holding off scores of aurors seems a little farfetched, just remember that he had them at a tactical disadvantage penned in a stairwell. He also had a 'force' advantage, in that berserker Potter was not confined to non-lethal spells, whereas aurors seem to be limited in their spell choices (something other fan-fics tend to capitalize on regarding auror-death eater matchups). And finally, yes, it's plenty farfetched. But then again, we're talking wizards and magic here! Thanks for the reviews!

PS. For a fic recommendation, try BajaB's story "The Substitute" It has hints of HHr, a really good plot, and angst to a level very rarely encountered in fan fiction. Bring tissues!


	20. Unrestricted Submarine Warfare

A/N: Before you ask, I do not own Harry Potter. I could say it goes without being said, but I did just say it.

A/N 2: Thanks for the reviews, even the not so nice ones. I shall endeavor to explain my reasoning better in future.

A/N 3: Apologies for the long hiatus. Real life decided to hit me with a 7lb, 1oz hurricane in the form of a darling baby daughter. Between the excessive cuteness and a severe lack of sleep, this chapter has been on hold for far too long!

One Wizard Too Many

Ch 20

Unrestricted Submarine Warfare

"Master Harry Potter! The Great Wizard Harry Potter needs to wake up sir!"

Harry knew that voice. That high pitched and overtly servile bit of sound invading his cozy oblivion could only belong to a House Elf. The unique manner of address hinted as to which elf it was.

He groaned and rubbed his face.

"Dobby. What the bloody hell happened to me?"

"Master Harry sir! Yous in the infirmary, resting after a big fight. But no time to rest now!"

At the mention of a 'Big Fight', memories of the running battle with the aurors flooded back into his mind.

"Aw fuck!"

He sat up quickly and opened his eyes in a squint. He was occupying a cot in the oft visited hospital wing. The goodly amount of ambient natural light told him it was now daytime, as well as exacerbating his already considerable headache. The silence and lack of activity seemed a bit odd though. Not even the ever present Madam Pomfrey was in sight.

"Dobby, what time is it?"

"Eleven in the morning, and time for the Second Task!"

"And again, fuck."

He noticed he was still mostly clothed, excepting his shoes and shirt. Footwear he found under the bed, and a t shirt was folded up on the table next to his bed. He slipped the shirt on, hissing as it brushed against the big bandage gracing his pectorals.

_"Fucking cutter! Should've decapitated that McLeod bastard! Wait, I think I might've…"_

His wand was, almost unbelievably, resting on the side table.

_"Hold on. I kill, or nearly kill about half a dozen aurors yesterday, and they let me keep my wand? What the fuck is wrong with these people?"_

Shrugging at the thought, he scooped it up and jogged for the door. It was unlocked, to his mild surprise. Shaking his head at the inability of wizards to ever do the sensible thing, he set off for the Black Lake at a brisk pace. He thought of the situation at hand, hoping to get his mind off the fact he was going into this task feeling like refried shit. Unfortunately, the prevailing strategic situation was almost as bad as the current physical one.

_"Something is very odd here. As soon as this stupid nonsense is over, I'm really going to have to figure what the hell is going on!"_

* * *

><p>"Mister Potter! Good of you to <em>finally<em> join us!" Bartemius Crouch was, as ever, unamused.

Usually, Harry would've had a reply handy to counter the pompous minister. Today though, he didn't trust his voice not to utter 'Avada Kedavra' or perhaps 'Crucio' at the man. He settled for a 'go fuck yourself' glare.

During the run to the venue, Harry had allowed thoughts of yesterday to stoke the fires of his anger. Him and Hermione, attacked. Hermione insulted. Percy and McGonagall's utter indifference to what he wanted. Hermione injured! Dawlish gloating. And what was up with Moody? How long was he there watching under a disillusionment?

He could feel his wrath approaching 'potential for creative homicide' levels, and the reddish tinge was already visible in the periphery of his vision.

Ludo Bagman began his announcements, describing the task to the assembled throng. When he reached the part about 'what they'll sorely miss' and choice of hostages, Harry's left eye twitched a bit and his anger notched a little higher on the scale.

Finally, the four champions were lined up on the edge of a dock near the frigid water.

Harry stood between Fleur Delacoeur and Cedric Diggory, but he didn't spare his opponents even as much as a glance. Cedric could read the warning signals and spared the young Gryffindor a sympathetic glance.

"All right Harry?"

"Awesome." Harry's angry glare at the lake lent his answer a certain amount of sarcasm.

Cedric tried to help. "No worries, mate. Just a quick grab and go, yeah?"

Harry turned to the taller boy. The pure rage in his expression shocked the Hufflepuff deeply.

"Cedric, listen, you just grab Cho and get out of there. Just ignore me and whatever I may be doing, no matter how violent it may seem."

"What do you mean? Why would you have to hurt anybody?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know, but something about this whole setup seems off. I'm counting on the Ministry trying to screw me over, but I'm not sure of the mermen."

Cedric contemplated the younger wizard's statement for a moment.

"Well, mermen in general aren't reckoned to be very friendly towards wizards, but Professor Dumbledore and the ministry liaison are supposed to have this group pacified."

In the background, Bagman was chattering on about the champions and a recap of the first task.

Harry however, was beginning to grow a bit more concerned at what Cedric had mentioned. Calling a potentially threatening group 'pacified' was never a good sign. The Royal Army said that about the American Colonials before Lexington, the Zulus before Isandlwana, and the Boers prior to Ladysmith. Even more famously, the Yanks made the claim about the Sioux in 1876 at a place the Native Americans called 'Greasy Grass' (the white men knew it better as the Little Big Horn), and then there was the matter of the Vietnamese just before the Tet holidays in 1968.

In short, calling a people 'pacified' was tantamount to daring the shit to hit the fan.

Then there was something else bugging him.

"Cedric, who is the ministry liaison?"

"I think it's still Walden Mac Nair from the bureau of Magical Creatures."

"Aw fuckin' bloody hell!"

Harry's curse was loud enough to cause a few in the crowd to chuckle or frown, depending on their sense of humor.

_"Why the hell am I just hearing about this now? Why didn't I think to ask?"_

The answer was complacency, pure and simple.

_"We all forgot, that's why. Fuck."_

Just as Cedric's face formed a questioning look at Harry's outburst, a loud boom issued from the judges booth signaling the start of the task.

Viktor, Fleur, and Cedric quickly dove into the cold water to begin their magical efforts.

Harry stood there for a moment, and then drew his wand.

"Accio 'special package'!"

Bagman's overly cheerful voice boomed out over the lake.

"And Potter seems to be starting this task the same way he started the last one! Wonder what surprise he has in store this time!"

Thirty seconds later, the loaded Zodiac rigid inflatable raft came zooming in from the direction of the castle.

Harry captured the boat with a levitation charm and set it down in the water just before him. He hopped in and started the outboard with a firm yank on the cord.

Soon, he was zooming away from the docks and toward the center of the lake.

He gunned the throttle with his right hand and flipped open a box with his left. Inside, there was a last minute extra from Remus that would aid him in this stupid task. As he neared the deepest part of the lake, he slowed the craft and stuck a pole with a cylinder shaped item overboard. He then fired up the fishing sonar display and set it to sweep.

As the complicated electronics did their work, Harry quickly stripped out of his clothes and put on the neoprene wetsuit, zipping it up under his chin. Mask, fins, tank, regulator, a wicked looking dive knife, the speargun, extra spears, and the Soviet made 'needle gun' completed his kit. He left the flash bangs in the raft, as he wasn't sure he could get away in time to not kill himself if he triggered one under water.

He checked his watch: 10 minutes elapsed.

He then checked the sonar display. The readings placed some oddly shaped terrain below him and extending several dozen meters in every direction.

"Right above the ville. Let's scoot over to the edge of town." He said to himself.

He trolled the raft further into the lake until he saw the odd 'bench like' terrain change into a rolling abyssal plain.

"City limits. Here's the spot."

Harry moved the mask into place and tucked his wand securely into a wrist strap. He checked his regulator and grabbed the crate of limpet mines, falling over the side into the cold lake waters.

He adopted a slightly 'head down' position, arms around the crate and fins tucked up behind him. This attitude gave him a nice and steady rate of descent with very little energy expended. Every few minutes he equalized the pressure in his ears by blowing air from his nose.

During the several minute descent, Harry thought over the situation with the mermen.

"_So here we have a group of magical sentients who are already pissed off at wizards in general. Add in the fact that you have old Walden 'Whack em off at the Neck' Mac Nair the Death Eater as their main contact with the Ministry, who I'm sure has told them all about little old me. I guess the only question is: how ugly is this going to get?" _

After a descent of about 20 meters or so the lake bed and a few merman huts became visible. Total depth in this area was about 27 meters; a very deep dive indeed. The seascape around him was cast in a dim light and the currents ran very cold.

"_What a miserable fuckin' place." _Harry had little energy for or inclination toward philosophical observation currently.

Time check: 25 minutes elapsed.

Harry set the heavy crate down on the lake bed and gathered a goodly amount in his arms. He swam for the first few mer-dwellings along the 'street' he was moving along.

He wasn't particularly pissed off at the merpeople yet, but he and Remus both felt that an appropriate diversion might come in handy for his exit from the town. The werewolf had of course known the merpeople were typically at odds with most wizards, but this bit about Mac Nair had come as a rather rude surprise.

Either way, leveling half their town was an excellent way to snatch their attention away from any rapidly fleeing wizards in scuba gear, should it come to that.

Besides, any 'de-pacification' that may result would just cause problems for the thrice damned Ministry.

All good points as far as Harry was concerned.

The area, for as built up as it was, happened to be totally devoid of activity. No mer-people showed themselves as Harry busied himself by mining the underwater buildings. He placed a mine against a wall, pressed firmly, and pulled the pin to start the timer. Remus had worked out three general settings; green paint, present on the first few charges he placed, indicated a 30 minute fuse (give or take; sixty year old munitions couldn't be counted on for scientific accuracy). He set three of the half hour variety on his progress toward the town center. The next three he set had yellow paint, indicating a twenty minute timer. Finally, he began to get very close to the sound of a mer-choir singing that infernal riddle from the egg.

At each refrain mentioning something he'd sorely miss, he became just a bit angrier.

"_Maybe it's just me, but it sounds like the bastards are bragging!"_

Harry gingerly placed the last three charges on the back side of a large building next to their main plaza. From the fancier architecture, he took in to be the mer-equivalent to city hall. These mines had red paint and a ten minute fuse.

Elapsed Time: 45 minutes.

"_The green charges have been live for about fifteen minutes, yellow for just under ten, red for three or four."_

He turned the corner into the plaza and swam hard for the center. Ahead of him was the choir, several guards, most of the villagers, and four posts. Two of the posts were unoccupied, rope like vines floating free in the current.

As Harry approached the target, he glanced around a bit to fix the positions and numbers of mer-people loitering about as well as he could in the murky conditions. He noticed three general types of be-finned denizens:

1. Civilians. There was the mer-choir singing away, comprising about ten individuals and a 'conductor' of sorts. They seemed to be focusing on belting out their tune for the duration of the event. Also present were about four dozen spectators calmly observing him approach. The outcome of the event was immaterial to them beyond any sort of general spectacle. None of these individuals had weapons in evidence. Threat level was low.

2. Officials and Dignitaries. On a dais to the left of the hostages 'stood' (more accurately, floated) a few older mer-people. They seemed to be bedecked in some sort of ceremonial chains, like the mayor of a French village. Three individuals were so garbed. Also in attendance were four 'lackey' types holding clay tablets and trying to look energetic. _"Like a soggy Percy Weasley!"_ This group would be expected to watch the proceedings very closely, as they seemed to be in charge of the event. One bigwig seemed to be holding a bejeweled trident, most likely a badge of office rather than a real weapon. The others were unarmed. Threat level was medium.

3. Security. Around the hostages were arrayed ten rugged looking mermen watching him very intently. Their flinty glares indicated a considerable level of distrust for the land dwelling wizards. They held tridents in their hand-like fins. Two bored mermen were positioned off to the side and engaging in a practice spar, demonstrating a significant degree of skill with the weapon. Clearly, the threat level was high.

Harry kicked hard, closing the distance rapidly to the dais. Time was running out quickly. He swam up to the posts and located the inert form of Hermione, looking to all the world like a drowning victim and tied to a stone column.

_"Hermione! I've got to get you out of here!" _Harry couldn't decide between fear and anger as an appropriate response to the sight.

He quickly unsheathed his knife and hacked away at the ropes holding her to the column. In his fear and haste to free Hermione, he managed to miss a few things. His arrival in the square attracted a great deal of attention from the mermen. Most of the fishy denizens looked on in curiosity, but the sparring mermen paused in their bout and began to slowly approach the distracted wizard.

Harry gathered his unconscious girlfriend in his arms after freeing her of the binds and took a quick look around. He noticed two things that troubled him greatly.

Firstly, there were two very unfriendly security mermen looming up on him. They were displaying an unhealthy amount of interest in his activities and looked rather grim.

Ordinarily, he would be able to count on the diverting spectacle of an exploding mer-village to properly engage their attention, allowing him to make his escape with his 'prize'. The ensuing mayhem should cover their tracks nicely.

Unfortunately, said mayhem would directly affect the second thing he noticed. Someone forgot their hostage.

A little blonde girl was tied to a column two over from the one formerly occupied by Hermione.

_"Damn! If I don't take her too, we might never get her back!" _Either the concussions from an exploding village might kill her, or a horde of pissed off mermen would hack her up for spite.

He was distracted from his ruminations by the angry prods from the two security mermen.

_"What?" _He tried to convey with a look_. _As usual, Harry really didn't have time for this.

One of the mermen began to shriek and gesture angrily.

What he wanted, Harry hadn't a clue.

_"What the fuck do you want, idiot?" _He threw one arm out to the side wildly, in a gesture meaning roughly the same as his mental question.

A quick glance at the watch on his splayed-out arm: Fifty three minutes elapsed. The first charges will probably start to go off in less than five minutes.

Just then, the quieter of the two security mermen lurched backwards and shrieked in pain. A reddish cloud of blood formed around his midsection.

_"What the hell? What just happened to him?" _

At first, Harry was confused. Then he saw the dead fish pouring blood in the 'wounded' merman's fist.

_"Holy shit, it's a frame up!" _The grin on the first merman's face as he reared back for a lunge told the whole story.

Harry was to be assassinated 'in self defense' by the merpeople. He had, apparently, attacked the security merman in a fit of rage and would be skewered for it.

Harry lurched to the right and pushed a semi-buoyant Hermione out of the way as the trident gashed his left arm badly. He wanted to scream bloody murder, but a grunt would do for now.

The enraged merman drew back for another thrust. All Harry could do was lean right and draw the needle gun. Two jerks of the extra large trigger and the merman was surprised by a pair of largish holes in his chest.

His partner dropped the playacting bit along with the dead fish to snatch up his trident and avenge his mate. His bid for vengeance was halted by a third jerk of the trigger and a single hole in the gut, courtesy of an enraged Harry.

The disabling of the second merman seemed to cause everything to pause for a moment. Harry was engulfed in a cloud of blood, some of it his own, and therefore temporarily hidden from view of the remaining security mermen.

_"Shit, shit, shit! Gotta get out of here!" _

Mermish cries of rage and distress could be heard as the dead merman floated clear of the blood cloud.

Harry had seconds to act. He grabbed Hermione by the arm and paddled as quickly as he could towards the blonde girl. He only had time to swipe once at the ropes binding her when the mermen were nearly upon him.

Harry swung the speargun around and spiked the first merman. The fishy assailant shrieked in pain and lurched into the path of another merman, delaying the attack by a precious few seconds.

Harry managed to part the line binding the blonde girl and was starting to reload the speargun, when a rumble shook the village. In the distance, a large silt cloud could be discerned rising.

_"Green charges went off. Time to go!" _

Harry finished reloading the speargun and grabbed the floating blonde girl by the arm. The girl's legs still had a length of rope attached, so Harry grabbed the bitter end and tied it around Hermione's waist. He grabbed Hermione's robes by the collar and began to ascend. Another series of rumbles and an uncomfortable pressure wave rolled through the village, indicating the detonation of the yellow charges. Harry could make out a few mermen stunned into unconsciousness at the edge of the square.

Harry kicked furiously and paddled hard with his uninjured right arm towards the dim light above. He tried not to think about the pain and burning from his left, made worse from towing Hermione and the blonde below him.

_"This is taking too long! Might have to banish us out of the lake!" _A strong banishing charm cast behind him would probably propel the group toward the surface. That, or cause him to lose his grip on Hermione, thereby leaving her for the angry merpeople to deal with. Unfortunately, there wasn't enough rope to secure Hermione to him.

A dull boom and a rush of water and silt erupted from below. The red charges had gone off and merman town hall was most likely a muddy hole in the lakebed.

An angry screech below indicated a close pursuer. He grabbed the speargun and drew a bead on the merman emerging from the depths.

The spear leapt off the launcher with a whoosh towards the merman, catching him in the top of the shoulder. He dropped his trident and sank into the gloom, leaving a blood cloud behind.

In the back of Harry's mind, two words popped up and tried to move forward into his consciousness. _"The bends." _

He knew he was ascending too fast to avoid injury from compressed nitrogen boiling out of his blood.

Four words erupted in his frontal lobe and shot backward in answer. _"No choice. Fuck it." _

He kicked hard and struggled to reload the speargun one handed. He seated the spear and cocked the mechanism just in time to fire it off at another angry merman. This one managed to dodge, escaping with a minor graze on the scaly part where someone's legs should be.

_"Shit!" _ Harry was unloaded and the merman kept coming. He grabbed his needle gun and fired his fourth and final shot, catching the merman in the head.

Harry had to get out of this lake _now_! He dropped the now empty needle gun and drew his wand. He twined his left hand around the collar of Hermione's robes and hoped for the best.

The spell shot out of the wand, impacting the water immediately. The force was incredible as the trio rocketed upward. Harry felt as if a giant had smacked him in the face as the water pressure broke his mask. The rushing water then knocked the mask from his now bloody face to hang around his neck. His regulator was torn from his mouth, knocking out a tooth or three in the process.

For all the pain though, the charm had the desired effect. Harry felt his body break the surface of the lake and fly into the air a short distance. The weight on his left arm hurt like hell, but told him he still had a hold of Hermione and the little girl. Being propelled into the atmosphere caused him to lose his grip on the collar, however.

He landed with a splash and quickly broke the surface again. He wiped some of the blood out of his face and tried to see where he was.

_"Okay, about fifty yards from the raft."_

A gasp and a shouted "Harry!" came from somewhere to his left. He turned to see a conscious Hermione holding the little blonde girl and swimming toward him.

"Oh thank God!" He summoned the raft and directed it towards the paddling girls. He kicked towards it himself as he prepared the speargun to cover their retreat.

Ahead of him, he saw Hermione sling the little girl into the raft before climbing in herself. She pushed herself up and looked toward Harry.

"Harry, behind you!" She shouted.

Harry spun and brought the speargun to bear. Just beneath the waves behind him he could see a rapidly approaching merman. He jerked the trigger on the gun and launched a spear just beneath the surface. The spear grazed the merman along the back, severing a fin in the process. The merman wavered, but shrugged off his injury to continue his attack.

Harry grimly drew his knife. He couldn't swim away fast enough; he would have to fight it out.

The merman's thrust trident grazed Harry's ribs, missing everything important but causing a great deal of pain. He trapped the trident under his savaged left arm and started jabbing with his knife, catching the merman in the shoulder and neck. The wounds weren't fatal though. The merman yanked hard on the shaft of the trident, wrenching Harry's damaged arm. The wizard tried to get a few more jabs in with his knife, but the merman caught him by the wrist and twisted.

Harry's right wrist broke with an audible pop. He managed to keep a hold on the blade, but couldn't put any significant force into a thrust.

He needed a miracle, and he knew it.

Just then, the zodiac raft bumped his head from behind and a pole with a cylinder contacted the merman's skull with a thud. Another swing, and the pole whacked the attacker again. The merman's grip slackened before a third swing caused the water dweller to sag away from Harry and sink into the lake. Harry looked up to see Hermione toss the remainder of the ruined sonar rig into the water and throw out an arm to help him into the raft.

The seriously wounded and exhausted wizard managed to clamber up into the raft and grab the tiller.

"Hermione!" He croaked.

"Oh Harry! Thank Merlin you're all right!"

A tired grin. "Thanks to you! We need to get the heck out of here though. I'll drive, you and blondie start in on the flash bangs in our wake."

"Right." The brunette witch reached into the bag holding the grenades and began to pitch them into the lake behind them, dissuading any possible pursuit. The little blonde girl could only huddle near the bow and cry silently.

Soon, the raft reached the 'safe' area of the lake, and Hermione ceased throwing the grenades to crawl up next to Harry and try and treat come of his many lacerations with his wand.

* * *

><p>Harry ran the raft up on the beach at the finish line, completing the task well after the hour was up.<p>

Harry found that he really didn't care about the time.

As Hermione helped him and the little blonde girl out of the raft, he heard Bagman announce. "And Potter finishes the task at one hour, eighteen minutes. He also seems to have picked up a stowaway!"

The little blonde girl screamed something in French and ran toward the Beauxbatons area, to be caught up in a desperate hug from a soggy Fleur Delacoeur.

Harry didn't pay much attention to the joyous Gallic reunion. His focus was on the judges table, which he gimped toward with Hermione's help.

Bartemius Crouch was the first to comment.

"Potter! You're late! The time limit was one hour."

Harry said nothing, but pulled away from Hermione and gimped toward the judges on his own.

Crouch continued. "As such, you should expect to receive a reduced score."

Harry seated a spear in the spear gun and cocked the mechanism. He drew nearer to the judges table. Hermione followed a step behind.

"Potter, are you even listening to me? Say something!" Crouch was beginning to get unnerved by Harry's silence.

Harry stopped ten yards from the table. The speargun rested on his hip, and he tipped the business end up a bit.

"Fuck you, Barty."

He jerked the trigger hard, and the spear leapt off the rail and caught Barty Crouch in the stomach.

Crouch gasped and fell backwards, holding the spear protruding from his guts.

Hermione grabbed Harry's left arm and pushed her face into his shoulder.

Crouch moaned in pain, then rather oddly looked around in a confused manner.

"Dumbledore! Where's Albus Dumbledore?"

Professor Moody pushed his way up to the fallen judge and quickly hit a portkey, presumably to St. Mungo's.

Harry thought he should be confused, but found he was far to tired to care why ass hat Crouch was calling for the Headmaster, or why Moody stepped in to help the man. He could also feel a burning pain in his joints indicating the onset of the bends.

With one last look at the chaos occurring all around them, Harry held tight onto Hermione as he triggered the portkey to their Jamaican beach.

A/n: Once again, sorry about the delay! Recuperation and explanation in the next chapter


	21. Island Refuge

A/N: I still don't own this. More's the pity. .

One Wizard too Many

Ch 21

Island Refuge

Hermione gasped as the portkey popped them into existence above a pre-dawn Jamaican beach. Unlike their previous arrival, this portkey ride dumped them messily into the sand in a tangle of limbs.

Hermione quickly pushed herself up to her knees and looked over at her Harry, who was busy grunting in pain and convulsing slightly.

"Harry! What is it?" Hermione knelt over him in a near panic.

"Bbbbbennnddsss. Cccame upp too fassst." His explanation faded into a coughing spell.

"Decompression sickness! Harry, we have to get you into a hyperbaric chamber!"

Harry by this time wasn't responding much to anything outside of his own pain, concerning himself with trying not to throw up everywhere or possibly soiling himself. He was having a bad enough day as it was, thank you.

Hermione's mind spun furiously, trying to come up with some way to help Harry.

"_Ok, he's suffering from the sudden lack of pressure. Hyperbaric chambers artificially simulate the higher pressures found at depth. There's no time to try and find a dive chamber, and I would have a difficult time explaining how we got here. Is there a magical solution?"_

"What about a modified bubblehead?" She asked no one in particular. "It just might work!"

Overhead, she heard the crack of an incoming portkey. She scrambled for Harry's wand and looked up at the odd sight of a gently descending black dog.

"Sirius!" She rose to her feet.

The large black dog morphed into the familiar shape of Harry's godfather, who ran to the pair.

"Harry! Hermione! Glad I found you guys. How badly is he injured?"

"Very. We need to get him inside immediately."

"Right." Sirius grabbed Harry under the arms and heaved him over his shoulder.

"Careful, he's a broken wrist as well as a number of lacerations." Hermione admonished as they hurried to the beach villa.

Once within the shore side house (assisted by an alohomora on the fly, as no one had remembered the keys for the shuttered building), Sirius put Harry down on a bed. As soon as he touched the sheets, Harry gasped in pain.

Hermione poised Harry's wand for a moment. "Stand back, I don't know if this is going to work."

Sirius could only nod. He knew well enough when to stay out of a witches way when her wizard's well being was at stake.

Hermione cast the bubblehead charm on Harry successfully, paused a moment to perform some calculations, then performed an additional air conjuration on the bubble. A third spell would reduce the pressure slowly over a few hours and gradually decay the bubble until the composition inside equaled the pressure outside.

She thought aloud as she worked. "Ok, the approximate density of sea water is 1025 kilograms per metre squared. Black Lake is fresh water, so that density would be less. How much less? Maybe about 1000 kilos per metre squared. Either way, every ten metre submergence would equal about a one atmosphere increase in pressure. How deep was the mer-village? Call it about 25 metres, maybe. That would argue an increase in pressure of about two and a half atmospheres. Wait, arithmetic equations are all performed in English measurements as opposed to metric! Stupid hidebound wizards! Anyway… Exact pounds per square inch would be… Twenty five metres would be eighty four point four nine five feet, or one thousand thirteen point nine four eight inches in depth. Pressure increases at a rate of one psi for every twenty seven point six eight inches in depth, giving us a final psi of thirty six point six three zero. I think. But what about the relative differences in altitude above sea level between Hogwarts and here, or the temperature of the water? Oh god Sirius I might be killing him!" Hermione's long ramble ended in a train wreck of tears.

The older wizard moved to hug the near hysterical girl. "Easy there, my dear. Look, Harry seems to be getting better already."

Hermione wiped her eyes and saw that Harry had stopped trembling and now seemed to be resting much easier, although now completely unconscious. He still looked like hell, though.

She moved to cast some healing spells on the battered young man, but stumbled a bit as a dizzy spell took hold.

Sirius pulled the wand from her hand as he steadied her. "Whoa, I think you've had enough for today. Why don't you have a kip while I clean up the lad?"

Hermione took her place at Harry's side. "You're sure? I think episkey and bone-knitting charms should work for most of the damage…"

Sirius stopped her before another lecture could begin. "Hermione, I've this well in hand. If there's one thing I know well, it's how to put a Potter back together after they get themselves knocked about a bit. You need to just relax."

Hermione nodded tiredly and cuddled into Harry's side, knocking out almost immediately.

Sirius chuckled a bit to himself as he waved the borrowed wand over the sleeping couple.

"Behind every great Potter is a scarily determined witch!"

Hermione awoke some time later with a bad case of cotton mouth and one side of her face stuck to something.

"_Ugh, what a way to wake up!"_

A grimace and an unpleasant peel later, she discovered the mysterious surface was Harry's bare chest and the adhesive, apparently, was a large quantity of drool.

"_Oh, that's gross! Well, the drool part anyway. Harry's chest is as nice as ever. More importantly, it is still rising and falling!"_

Hermione was flooded with relief. She found her wand placed on a side table and cast a few diagnostic charms, confirming Harry's continued existence and progress towards good health.

She heard a door open behind her, and the quiet voice of Remus Lupin.

"Hermione, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Professor. Harry seems to be improving, as well."

"That's good to hear. You needn't worry about the medical scans; we have a diagnostic ward on him."

"Oh, well, that's great."

Remus smirked. "It's okay, I know Sirius and I sort of usurped your job. I promise we'll give it back after breakfast."

She smiled. "You better believe it! I have seniority." She stood up to stretch out a few kinks before joining the former Marauders for a late breakfast, kissing Harry on the cheek and leaving him to recuperate in peace.

She left the darkened bedroom and had to cover her eyes a moment as they adjusted to the bright Caribbean sunshine illuminating the villa's dining room.

Sirius looked up from his coffee. "Looking much better there kiddo. Sleep well?"

Hermione paused as she peeled an orange. "I would say I slept like the dead, but for the fact that the statement was very nearly rendered literal. Do you two have any idea what the heck has been happening over the past few days?"

Remus poured himself another cup of coffee and smiled thinly. "We have a bit of an idea. I managed to quiz some of the aurors following the riot, and I managed to buttonhole Albus after the task for a little background on that. Would you like to start, or do you want to wait for Harry?"

"I think we should wait for Harry to awaken before we go over recent events in detail, but I do have a few questions for you if you don't mind answering them?"

"Certainly, ask away."

Hermione paused, in order to arrange her queries properly.

"Right, the riot. Why was Percy acting so aggressively towards us? He's usually pretty condescending, but never quite that violent."

Remus answered. "Short answer: somewhere in the commotion somebody hit him with an Imperius directed to attack you."

"Imperius? And no idea who may've cast it?"

"Nope, no indication of a wand signature, what with all the free-floating magic present. The investigative aurors believe it was cast shortly after you hit Ron. The distraction provided both an opportunity to cast the spell and a pretext to explain Percy's unusual behavior." Remus said.

"How do they know it was an Imperius? Professor Moody taught us the curse was completely untraceable?"

Sirius answered. "It usually is, but only after the spell is broken. If a proficient Legilmancer can scan the victim while still somewhat in thrall, they can detect a specific mental residue."

"Fortunately, the Weasley clan has always been unusually susceptible to mental magics, and Albus was able to spot the curse and provide an approximate timeline." Remus finished.

Hermione grinned slightly in remembrance of Ron skipping uncontrollably following that most unusual DADA lesson.

"Ok, that makes sense, even if it is most definitely a cause for concern. Next, why were we attacked by hostile aurors outside the Hall? They seemed rather unprofessional in their demeanor."

"That may be due to the fact that the training platoon from the Auror Academy was the first responder." Remus said. "Apparently, Auror Dawlish was the duty instructor that day and felt a realistic lesson was in order. Combine the officer's inexperience with the fact that most Aurors are often former Slytherins, and you have a recipe for trouble."

"Why does the Auror corps recruit so heavily from Slytherin house?" Hermione wondered.

Sirius grinned sadly. "It's all thanks to Snivvely and the Auror potions requirement. Unless you wear silver and green, it's very difficult to get a NEWT in potions. The same problem exists for Healers and Apothecaries as well. Lovely how one awful git can change our society in such a fundamental way."

"As a result, younger Aurors have a distressing tendency towards rudeness when dealing with anyone not known to be Pureblood." Remus said.

"My cousin Dora is one of the few non-Slytherin Aurors to graduate in the past decade, and her partner Kingsley Shacklebolt is a transfer from the Magical Commonwealth forces. Cher Dora has complained extensively about the amount of hazing they seem to encounter, all because they don't share the same set of grand-parents!"

Hermione was appalled. "Just how corrupt and incestuous _is_ magical culture?"

Sirius grinned ruefully. "More than you can imagine."

"Okay, societal flaws aside, what happened after our unsuccessful flight from the castle? The last thing I remember is being forcefully introduced to a wall before waking up in the lake. How long was I out, and what happened to both Harry and I in that interim?"

"Well, after you were hit, Harry sort of… snapped." Remus said

"Snapped?"

"Yup. Went right mental and nearly killed two dozen Auror trainees." Sirius added.

"What!? You said _nearly_ killed, right? He didn't actually kill anyone, did he?"

Remus looked contemplative for a moment. "Define 'anyone'."

Hermione glared at the werewolf. "Did Harry end the lives of any Aurors that day?"

"No Aurors were killed in the incident yesterday. However, three were medically discharged due to injury."

"Okay. That's better than the massacre it could have been. Whom did Harry kill though?"

"Well, let me put it this way: the mermen population density in the Black Lake is a bit lower than it was this time yesterday. How much so? No one yet knows." Remus stated.

"Oh Harry." Hermione groaned as she grasped her forehead with both hands. "What about Crouch? That spear sticking out of his midsection didn't look very healthy."

"The esteemed Director hasn't turned up yet, it seems." Remus said. "He is a notoriously private man, so a session with a private Healer is likely. If he had died of his injuries, the Ministry would most likely have released a statement. They track the life signs of the high level personnel."

"Well thank all the deities that Harry didn't publically murder a Ministry director!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Yeah, just publically maim and attempt to murder the 'Honourable' Mister Crouch." Sirius said with a grin. Unsurprisingly, his views on the Ministry were of a kind with his views on magical gonorrhea.

"All right." Hermione said, trying to assimilate the given information. "Obviously Great Britain and Hogwarts are over for us. Where should we go now?"

At this, Remus perked up a bit. "Actually, your refugee status may be a little premature."

"How? Harry nearly murdered his way through magical society? We can't possibly go back. Ever." Hermione began to get a little misty eyed at this point. Britain, for all its flaws, was her home!

"You're forgetting; Harry has immunity."

"That cannot possibly work. Can it?" Hermione was utterly bewildered. "No. That would be completely insane. Even Magicals can't be _that_ daft!"

Sirius grinned in an evil manner. "Oh, they're much more daft than all that!"

"Indeed. As it happens, all the mayhem Harry participated in falls under the purview of the Tournament rules." Remus supplied.

"I find that incredibly amazing in a purely horrific way. There is something so very, very wrong about this." Hermione remarked flatly. She knew she really shouldn't be surprised by anything anymore.

"I know! I am _so_ jealous!" Sirius enthused.

"Harry needs to return to complete the tournament if he wishes to remain magical. The immunity makes that possible. We will get a binding guarantee of said immunity before we let you two set foot in Scotland though."

"Okay, whatever you think is best. This immunity does cover me as well, right?"

Remus grinned. "Luckily, as Harry's 'council and second', you also get a reduced version of his coverage. Enough to excuse any action in defense of the tourney entrant or basic self protection at any rate."

Hermione sighed. "I suppose there's no way we can just hop back for the event? Britain seems to be unusually dangerous for us at the moment."

"I wish you could." Remus rubbed his tired eyes. "Technically, you yourself can stay away. Harry must return within a certain timeframe per tournament rules."

"No. Where he goes, I go also."

Sirius just couldn't stop the grin. "You know he's gonna try and keep you here, right?" These two were just too cute!

It was Hermione's turn to grin. "Emphasis on the word 'try'. Extra emphasis on the phrase 'and fail miserably'."

Remus' chuckle was cut off by a twinge in the wards. "Well, looks like our sleeping beauty is coming around."

Hermione pushed off of her knees with her hands and stood up. "Hope Harry is up for some plotting and a bit of brunch. We've work to do!"

AN: Once again, sorry for the long (two year!) delay. I'd blame my muse, but she might go on sabbatical again. This story was started on a whim as a bit of a lark (like many stories here, I'm sure) and when the impetus ran out, it was tough to get it going again. RL concerns also make stuff like this difficult, and blah blah I couldn't be arsed to finish something I started. Sorry it took so long to update and hopefully we'll get to the next chapter in something less than a congressional term. If this chapter seems short, my apologies. I just needed to get this thing restarted. In the next installment: Harry catches up and the pair returns to Hogwarts. Cheerio!


	22. Awakenings

**One Wizard Too Many**

**Chapter 22**

**Awakenings**

Harry Potter felt like shit.

"_What the bloody fucking hell happened to me?"_ He wondered. _"I haven't felt quite this badly, well, ever! Even when I lost a fight to Dudders, or that reflex test with Petunia's frying pan, or that time Vernon backed over me with the car…" _

A gentle voice interrupted his 'fond' remembrances.

"Harry? Please come back to us."

He forced his gritty eyes open and tried to speak. A spate of coughing seemed to clear the throat for him.

"Hermione? Is that you? Are we alive?"

A grin. "Yes, Harry. It's me, and we're both among the living."

"Thank God, or the gods. Or Merlin. Or whomever!"

"Thank Hermione." Sirius added. "She really saved your bacon!"

"Yes, her impromptu decompression chamber most likely saved your life, or at least spared you a great deal of suffering." Remus declared.

Harry smiled up at the slightly embarrassed girl. "My hero."

"Oh enough, you guys! Wasn't anything special, really."

"Miss Granger, if I could still give points, you would be taking a thousand for Gryffindor."

"A million!" Sirius called out.

"You get a billion from me, Miss Granger." Harry said, in his best Flitwick impression.

"Okay, okay. I get it." The now fully embarrassed girl replied. "See if I ever save _your_ life again!" The big smile on her face belied any rancor her statement might've contained.

Harry sat up a bit. He spread his arms to Hermione inviting her in for a much needed cuddle, which she entered into gladly.

Once the two were properly settled (and the smirking from the peanut gallery had run its course), Harry spoke, "Dare I ask, but does anyone have any idea just what the heck has been going on the past few days?"

"Funny. We were going to ask you that very same question!" Remus replied.

"All I can state with any confidence is that something very weird seems to be happening at Hogwarts. Where can we begin?"

"Hermione filled us in on some of it while you were napping. There are a few things missing that only you were a witness to alone." Remus said.

"Such as: what possessed you to take on an entire trainee Auror platoon by yourself?!" Hermione asked from her cuddle position, turning to lightly glare at the 'Boy-who-(barely)-Lived'.

"Good question." Was Remus' response.

"Hey, I thought it was kinda awesome, in a 'Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid' sort of way. But it was still pretty reckless." Sirius said.

Harry gulped. "Well, when I saw Hermione go down," he squeezed the girl tightly, "something sort of snapped." He finished, unknowingly imitating Remus' previous characterization of the event. "Once I was sure she was still alive, all I wanted to do was cause a great deal of pain to those who hurt her." He looked up at Remus with a very troubled expression marring his features. "I didn't really want to kill anyone, exactly, but crippled for life might've been okay by me."

Hermione squeezed the boy. "Did you see who cast the spell that took me out?"

"Yes, it was Auror Dawlish. I made sure to mess him up pretty good." He turned towards the werewolf, "Did I kill anyone that day?" he asked.

"No, Harry. No Aurors were killed in the incident. In addition, Madame Bones has called for a full investigation into the entire affair."

Harry sighed. "Welp, its Azkaban or the lam for me, it seems. Fancy some company there, Sirius?"

Sirius grinned. "Actually pup; it would appear I'm still the only fugitive from 'justice' in this family. You're immune from prosecution. Lucky git!"

Harry gawped. "How is that even possible? I distinctly remember nearly beheading some bastard on those stairs! I impaled Dawlish through the stomach with a piercing hex! And what about Barty Crouch? It can't be legal to shoot a judge in the guts with a spear gun!"

"Language, dear! Do you remember what I told you when we were going over the tournament rules?" Hermione asked.

Harry thought for a moment. "No killing, castration, or permanent maiming. But I can remember slicing off several people's arms and legs! How is _that_ not maiming?"

Hermione smiled. "In your experience, is magical healing capable of re-growing a limb?" She rubbed his arm for emphasis.

"Yeah, I suppose it can. Especially if some fraud manages to vanish your bones!"

"Exactly. As it happens, three Auror trainees were medically discharged, but the Auror corps has a higher standard of fitness than most of Wizarding society. Now, did you specifically intend to damage or remove anyone's … reproductive ability?" The girl asked.

"No. I didn't blast anyone in the bollocks, much as they might've deserved it."

A swat to the arm. "Harry! Behave. Did you kill anyone? Hint: we just said you didn't."

"Okay, I guess not just then. But what about the Lake? I must've slaughtered dozens of mermen. Surely _that_ counts as 'killing', right?"

Remus sighed. "You do know that wizard-kind is one of the most racist and bigoted population of sentients on the planet, right?"

"Yeah. So?" Harry replied, uncertainly.

"The tournament rules only specify fully human wizards, Harry. You're free to kill as many non-humans and non-wizards as you like." Remus said.

"What?" Harry choked out.

"Not that you should, of course." Remus added, rather unnecessarily.

Hermione was taken aback. She hadn't noticed _that_! "That's disgusting! How the devil can that be allowed?" She turned to Harry. "Not that it's bad in your case though." She turned back to Remus. "But the concept violates nearly every magical pact and treaty ever written!"

She figured it was a waste of breath to mention the affront to basic morality and civilized behavior, for all the weight _they_ carried in Wizarding culture!

Remus nodded wearily. "It should. Unfortunately, or fortunately in your case, Tournament rules predate and supersede all Magical law except the Statute of Secrecy. As long as you don't endanger the existence of the magical world, you can cheerfully slaughter any merman, vampire, werewolf, goblin, centaur, elf, or muggle you wish. You can even kill me if you wanted."

"What a horrid rule!" Hermione gasped.

Harry gawped again.

"Not that you should, of course." Remus repeated with a grin.

Harry closed his open mouth and sighed wearily.

"Why does anything surprise me anymore? What about Crouch? A spear to the navel doesn't do a body good, as it were."

"He's not dead, so he doesn't count." Sirius said.

"I hope the lousy elf abuser enjoys his new, all-liquid diet!" Hermione muttered.

"Well, if it's any consolation, he seemed to be having a thoroughly miserable time when he was last seen." Remus said.

"Good." The vengeful witch said with some satisfaction.

"Okay, we've covered everything up to the task. What in Merlin's name happened down there?" Sirius asked.

"In short, it was a set up. Do you know who the current Ministry rep to the Mermen is?" Harry asked.

Remus thought for a moment. "It used to be Cresswell, before they moved him on to the Goblin office. Dumbledore was it before him. I did hear that the Creatures department took it over on an ad-hoc basis." Remus gasped. "It couldn't be Mac Nair, could it?"

"Yup. Cedric told me just before we all dove in."

"My gods! I'm sorry pup! We should have been aware of that beforehand."

Harry grunted. "Well, I didn't think to ask either. Based on the behavior of a few of the mermen, Mac Nair probably paid for a hit. When the attempt failed, the rest of the tribe came after me."

A pale Remus asked, "And the mines? What did you do with them?"

"I planted them along my route into town, finishing with City Hall. Covered the escape pretty well, really."

Remus pinched the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Although we haven't heard the mermen casualty figures, I don't think any civilian mermen were killed in the destruction. I'm sure the mer-chieftainess would have been sure to bring that up when she lodged her complaint with Dumbledore. It did sound like a number of warriors were lost, however, along with a great deal of damage to the village itself."

Harry sulked a bit. "Well, they did try to kill me first. Again." He thought for a moment. "By the way, what is going on with Professor Moody? He stunned me after the Auror battle and said some weird stuff, then he jumped on Crouch when I plunked him in the belly after the lake. Why would he do that?"

Hermione answered. "Well, it makes perfect sense why he would restrain someone who was cutting down Aurors left and right, considering he used to be one. What did he say?"

"He said I did a good job, or something. Couldn't really focus on what he was saying."

"Old Mad-Eye was always a fan of a big brawl. Maybe he just liked your style." Sirius said.

"Maybe, but I can't think he'd be happy to see an entire year's crop of Auror candidates taken out like that." Remus said.

Harry was appalled. "An entire _year_? I incapacitated an entire graduating class of Aurors?! What have I done?"

"Probably improved the overall quality of the remaining Aurors, gotten Dawlish reassigned once he recovers, and undoubtedly made a few enemies for life; nothing really earth shattering." Sirius quipped.

"Just what I need; more people trying to kill me. What about Moody and Crouch?"

"Barty used to be Moody's boss, back in the day." Sirius said. "Maybe they're still pals, or something."

Remus looked contemplative. "Possibly; who can say? It does seem odd, what with Pomfrey right there to render aid. A trip to a private healer, perhaps? Still, Moody bears watching, I think."

Sirius laughed. "Paranoid old bastard will love that! I see a largish purchase of silver cutlery in his future if he catches you snooping in on him."

"Sirius! Language!"

"Sorry Hermione."

Harry chuckled a little. "Ah, lovely to see someone else in the line of fire for a change! Anyway, I think we all can agree that Moody is a weirdo, Crouch is a flaming cu-, uh, conundrum," a nervous glance at Hermione, who was glaring back through slitted eyes. "And Harry is kind of hungry, and would like to eat sometime today before he expires of malnutrition."

"And after that?" Hermione asked, while helping Harry rise to his unsteady feet.

"I think we should take some prime beach time, to bake some heat back into our old bones!"

"Hear, hear!" Hermione could get behind that idea.

* * *

><p>"Aaahhh." Harry sighed in contentment as the warm Caribbean waters rolled over his feet. Just being on that beach and away from the awful Scottish weather was like a tonic for his soul. "After this tourney nonsense, I am so going to retire here!"<p>

"Retire? Sounds just a bit odd coming from a fourteen year old!" Sirius added from his beach chair nearby. "Now, for someone of my advanced years perhaps…"

"I don't think they allow dogs on this beach, what with the mess and all." Harry replied.

Sirius laughed. "Any sort of mess ol' Padfoot might make would pale in comparison to the disaster you looked when you first got here! Look quite a bit better now though."

"Yup. Complete dog shit doesn't even cover it. Do I really have to go back to Hogwarts?"

Sirius sighed. "It would appear that you do, unfortunately. Moony said you have to remain in fairly close proximity to the blasted goblet throughout the course of the tourney,"

"How long can I stay away?"

"The Moon-Doggie said the rules say you have a fortnight."

"'Moon-Doggie'?"

"It's a long and incredibly stupid story, like most of our exploits. Basically you get a two week vacation from the stupid crazy bullshite."

"It just has to be me, right? You, Remus, and Hermione don't have to go back, I gather."

Sirius barked a laugh. "No, we don't _have_ to return. But I don't think you have either the stones or the magical wattage to keep us away. No offence, pup."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah. If it were just you and Remus, maybe…"

"You're a funny little guy, Harry." Sirius grinned. "What a pity that you might be right."

Their island idyll lasted just seven days of the possible fourteen, as Remus and Hermione both agreed that the 'fortnight' rule was just a bit too fuzzy on which to stake Harry's magical ability. Their safety, at least the safety of Harry and Hermione, required Unbreakable Vows wrung from both Dumbledore and Fudge on behalf of the school and Ministry respectively to respect the Tournament rules.

Remus remarked that Fudge's expression while performing the vow resembled nothing so much as man expecting to pass a stone only to find he must pass a nettle instead.

Hermione condemned the crudity but savored the content nonetheless.

* * *

><p>In due time, the happy couple prepared to return to Scottish shores, and the glares and recriminations of their schoolmates.<p>

As the pair looked around the beach one last time as they waited on a portkey to trigger, Harry sighed wistfully.

"Hermione; what say you that we retire here one day?"

"Mmm, I think that might be a great idea. One day, at least. Don't know if I'm ready to retire just yet."

A wry grin. "No, I suppose we've a bit more mess to make before we're done."

A portkey flash and they were gone.

AN: Another shorter one, but it seemed like a good place to stop. This update did occur in a bit less than the two year interval the last one required, so there is that at least. Apologies for the lack of action in this installment, I shall endeavor to rectify that particular lack shortly. Thank you for the reviews and I do hope you enjoy my meager efforts.


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